


Crawl out through the fallout baby

by LittleKingTrashMouth



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, HOO BOY FIRST WORK HAVE MERCY, Railroad faction, Slow Burn, Spoilers(?), just in case someone hasn't beaten the game but loves deacon like we all do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7589215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleKingTrashMouth/pseuds/LittleKingTrashMouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theresa Rodriguez knew the world was ending way before the bombs dropped. The war loomed on the horizon like a tangible version of the Four horseman. Nate and Shaun - they were like a commercial break. A distraction from what was really going on in the world. The sinking feeling of being right slaps her in the face and Theresa is thankful that they were able to escape to the safety of the vaults. Unfortunately for her, VaultTec had other plans. Having her baby ripped from her arms, and a husband that was wrongfully killed, Theresa is out for blood and vengeance. She made quick work to find a professional and find the man that ruined her life with one bullet. Nick was there when she killed Kellogg, eyeing the synths around her, and keeping his eyes to the ground when she fires her shot. Blood and vengeance found, Theresa is out to find her son, and is willing to do anything to keep him safe. If that involves lies and betrayal, then so be it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Think about your hero, when you're at Ground Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Oh boy am I nervous to put this out there. I've never really been good at beginning, so we're all kind of dropped in at the middle of the Freedom Trail with Nick Valentine by our side. I'm forever pissed I can't romance Deacon like what did I do personally to deserve this. Um, constructive criticism is appreciated, and comments/kudos are always welcome! I hope y'all enjoy this because I wrote it at midnight when i couldn't sleep! It's a little short, but it is also the first chapter so I was sort of feeling it out.

She heard that infernal beeping again. Her heart racing, sweat dripping down her forehead and down her temples. Fucking Faneuil Hall had to be ridden with super mutants, she thinks to herself, not daring to speak out loud. Her breathing was quick, and panicked, and she peaked around the corner to see how many she and her beloved synth, Nick would have to take. There were only two, the beeping of one of their mini nukes strapped to his left arm. Brown eyes shift back to Nick, bringing her finger up to her mouth, a small smile coming across her lips.

 

Before all of this, Theresa was awarded with a medal for her sharp shooting. But of course, they had decided to celebrate Nate’s service to the country, not her’s. He was the one who was fresh off his tour in China. However, she had no doubt she could hit that mini nuke and kill two birds with one stone. Or rather - three birds, if she wasn’t careful enough.

 

“Huh? Who there?” One of the gruff mutants called out when Theresa steps around the corner, crouched, with her hunting rifle resting comfortably at her wrist and her shoulder. The next few moment seem to pass at an incredible slow speed. It takes only those few moments to hone in on that annoying little bomb and she pulls the trigger.

 

There’s a loud explosion, followed by white light, and a terrible ringing sound. All too familiar to the sole survivor as she’s thrown back against the makeshift fence behind her. “ _Fuck_!” she yells out, struggling to get back at least on all fours. “Theresa!” She can barely hear Nick call out, before feeling metal digits come across her shoulder. There’s a faint sting when she feels the skin of her arm being stabbed with, she can only assume, is a stimpak. It takes her a second to come back around, her brow knitting together before her vision returns to her.

 

Head laying comfortably in the garbage on the ground, Theresa eyes come into focus and she spots those familiar golden hue of Nick Valentine’s eyes as he worries over her. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” He chastises her, only earning a small, smug smile from her. “Yeah,” She agrees, before beginning to sit up, “Hey now, take your time. You’ve hit your head pretty badly against the wall here.” Theresa leans up with the help of her detective friend, stopping once she’s sitting upright.

 

“Did I get him?” She asks, blindly searching for a bottle of clean water with her hand. She’s met with Nick’s completed hand and he gives her the bottle, “Yeah, but at what cost? A concussion?” Theresa’s in the middle of a big swig when she begins to chuckle, “C’mon Nicky,” She starts, “It was only one mini nuke. At least I had you by my side.” And that earns a silence between the two. The sole survivor finishes her bottle in the meanwhile, her morals screaming at her when she throws it to the side with the rest of the garbage around her.

 

“I don’t think we should keep going tonight. We should set up camp. I’ll take first watch,” Valentine suggests with a joking tone thrown in there. Theresa turns to look at him as if it’s the first time she’s met him, “You know that’s not how I do things. We ‘follow the freedom trail’. We get there tonight.”

 

Valentine chuckles darkly, “There are some places you just can’t get to in one day, doll.” but she shakes her head, “No can do, Nicky. I need to get there now. If these Railroad douchebags know the most about the institute, then they’re the people I need to see now. No way I’m gonna be spending my time with those Brotherhood assholes after that bullshit with ‘the synth is the abomination’ shit. I’ve spent enough of my time with people who follow the rules, I don’t need more of that in my life.” She finds her friend silent, and she takes it as her cue to get up, slinging her rifle over her shoulder. Nick stays where he is for the moment, and moves only when she turns around to see what he’ll do. “Lead the way,” He adjust his hat as a gesture that he’s ready to go.

 

It takes the pair another hour to finish the red trail throughout Boston, and it’s well into the late hours of the night. Wanting to keep a low profile, Theresa reaches behind her and feels for the handle of her aluminium bat, bringing it forward and admiring the glitter of the barbed wire she finds there. She freezes when they come to the Old North Church. She should’ve realized. She should have _recognized_ where they were. Nick stops behind her, but keeps quiet, listening to anything (or the lack thereof) resulting in the night. “Uh, doll? We probably shouldn’t be standing here for long. What’s the word?” Nick asks, but get nothing from his companion. “Theresa?” he calls out for her, turning to look at her in the dark - the light of raider territories providing only a small amount for Nick to see her.

 

And seeing her tears gathering in her eyes. She only lets one spill over, rolling down her cheek before she wipes at her eyes with her hand. “Sorry,” She whispers, sniffling slightly. “It’s just. Nate and I got married here.”

 

The assault on the ghouls that lie within is especially hard for her, because she all she can see is her wedding she had here in 2075. She prays to God that these aren’t people she knew. A final grunt, and she’s covered with the old blood the ghoul’s final blow expels. Theresa stands there on debris and dead bodies, breathing heavily - staring at the gargantuan organ in front of her. Those brown eyes have sadden again, and her bottom lip quivers slightly. This sort of pain was indescribable. What she would give, just to have it all back.

 

The rest of ghouls tire her even more, and Theresa scolds herself for not listening to Nick and just camping out for the rest of the night (not that she’s going to tell him that she was wrong) and she breaks out her heavy shotgun to rid of these monsters. Her ears ring for an extended amount of time, and she wonders if her tinnitus has returned. Her suspicions are confirmed when she can only hear Nick’s muffled voice and responds loudly with, “What?” alerting two more ghouls in front of them.

 

The sole survivor winces again, attempting to pop her ears when they’ve finally come to a seal located on the wall. Next to it, a drawn lantern. “Okay,” Theresa brings her hands up, once she’s managed to pop one of her ears, “Now what?” Nick hummed to himself, bringing his skeleton-like hand up to scratch an itch on his head that didn’t exist. “Not too sure. You think those red numbers on the seals have anything to do with it?” Theresa takes moment, before reaching her hand up towards Valentine, who in return gave her a piece of paper with writing on it. 7-A, 4-L, 2-A, 6-O, 3-I, 5-R, 8-D, and 1-R. Nicky had been taking notes. She turns on the flashlight on her PipBoy, a bright blue coming on and making it a easier for her to read the numbers on the paper. Reaching out, she gingerly presses against the giant seal - the metal going inward and confirming a suspicion. It was a code. Theresa follows the numbers, as they go in order, turning the dial and pressing the seal after each. R-A-I-L-R-O-A-D. When she presses the center a final time she can hear the signature sound of locks becoming undone. She gives Nick a curious look, her eyebrows raising up in question, and he gives a shrug of his shoulders.

 

Her shotgun stays nestled between her hands, ready to shoot in case there were any more ghouls waiting for them on the other side. But it’s pitch black, and Theresa can barely see in front of her even with the light of her PipBoy. After so many cautious steps, someone turns on the lights. The bright lights - blinding even, and the woman brings up a hand to shield her eyes. And she’s met with a tough, demanding voice.

  
“ _Stop _ right there.”


	2. 'Cause they said this bomb was clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gettin' grilled by the RailRoad wasn't exactly how she expected this to go.

“You went through a lot effort to arrange this meeting. But before we go any further, answer my questions. Who the hell are you?” The woman in the center demands, a large minigun on her right, and an angry looking shotgun on her left. Theresa weighs her options on what she should say so that she doesn’t get sawed off with the minigun, “Why don’t you tell me who you are first.” the scavver challenges. Boss-Lady speaks of the world full of suspicion, treachery and hunters and calls them the “Synths only friends. We’re the Railroad.” There’s a feeling of relief that comes over Theresa, she has found who she was looking for. “So answer my question.” The (she can only assume) is the boss of the group. “We followed the Freedom Trail looking for the Railroad,” Theresa explains, “We’re not your enemy.” Boss-Lady doesn’t give her a minute to breathe, tilting her head, “If that’s true, you have nothing to fear. Who told you how to contact us?” She questions, making the scavver a little more nervous that she was before. 

 

Nick backs up against her, letting his hand come up and press against Theresa’s back in a supportive way. She takes a deep breath, “I just heard a rumor about you guys in Diamond city.” 

 

That seems to satisfy Boss-Lady, “I see. I’m Desdemona, and I’m the leader of the Railroad. And you are?” There’s only a split second before Desdemona turns her attention to someone Theresa hasn’t noticed has join the company. “Deacon! Where have you been?” The sole survivor smiles a little noticing how her tone reminds her of a mother. “You’re having a party, what gives with my invite?” A gravely voice answers, grabbing Theresa’s attention quickly. It was a man, who stood about about 5’8 maybe a little taller, who wore dark sunglasses (something she’d kill for right now with these blinding construction lights shining in her face) “I need intel,” Desdemona explains, “Who is this?” She jerks her head in Theresa's direction and Theresa’s eyebrows knit together. What was he gonna know about her?

 

“Wow!” The newest member, Deacon lets sarcasm drip off his voice, “Newsflash, boss. This lady is _kind_ of a big deal out there.” His comment raises Theresa’s brows and she interrupts the two, “Do we know each other?” Deacon looks over to where she was standing, “I didn’t need to meet you to hear about you. You’ve made waves, pal. Dez,” He turns to Desdemona as she listens expectantly, “Seriously, you haven’t heard of her? She’s the leader of the Minutemen. Seems like the whole Commonwealth is flying her flag.” 

 

“So, you’re vouching for her?” Desdemona asks, looking back over to Theresa, who has rested her shotgun muzzle against the ground and cocked a hip to the side. Annoyance rises in the sole survivor, and she lets out a huff of a sigh. “Yes,” Deacon let’s seriousness rise in his voice, “Trust me, she’s someone we want on our side.” That’s when Desdemona looks back to Theresa,  “That changes things. So, stranger, why’d you want to meet with us, anyway?” Which only earns a hardened look from the survivor, “I have my reasons,” She responds, not wanting to tell everyone in the Commonwealth why she was gunning for the Institute. “Fair enough,” Desdemona allows her answer, letting Theresa be vague to her comfort. But the comfort and relief is short lived, “If we’re going to be dealing with you, I need to make sure we’re all on the same page. You know what a synth is, right?” Theresa makes a face, like she’s trying not to hide a smile. She looks over her shoulder, where Nick shifts and struggles to hide his own chuckle. “Yes. I know what a synth is.” And that earns a hardened look from Desdemona, and she dismisses her follow up question. “The Institute treats synths as property. As tools.” Theresa looks over her shoulder at Nick, who remains silent. “That sounds like slavery.” She couldn’t imagine her Nicky being used as a tool - as property.  “Exactly,” Desdemona continues, “So we seek to free the synth from their bondage. Give them a real chance at life. It’s clear that with your friend here that you’re willing to fight side by side with your fellow synth. The question I have is, will you be willing to lay your life on the line for a synth?” 

 

Theresa is taken back to earlier that day when she nearly died shooting at a mini-nuke, and being taken care of by Nick. “I risk my life everyday. It doesn’t matter to me if he’s a synth or not.” Theresa explains, taking a step back so she’s closer to her friend. “Normally, you’re just the type of person we’d recruit. However, we don’t have enough agents to train you.” There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach. She’s come all this way only to be turned away? “However, there are some other ways you can contribute to our cause. See Deacon for details. You’re free to go.” 

 

The minigun and Desdemona instantly relax and turn away, Deacon waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. Theresa turns to her friend, “ Nicky, what do you think I should do? We came all this way only to have our faces broken.” Nick lights a cigarette, “I don’t think we should rule it out. Why don’t we talk to that Deacon fellow, see what he’s got to offer us.” Theresa reaches for Nick’s hand, giving it a small squeeze before turning around and walking towards her only supporter in the small group. 

 

“Hi,” she starts, a little sheepishly 

 

“The precautions are necessary,” he starts, “In our business, if we underestimate our enemy’s capabilities it’s game over.” Theresa doesn’t say anything, letting Sunglasses explain himself even further, “But - it’s all good now! I vouched for you, nobody got shot. Still, I would consider it a close personal favor if you didn’t sell us out to the Institute. Thanks.” The sole survivor raises one eyebrow in confusion, “ I still don’t understand. Why did you vouch for me?”

 

“With the Institute hunting you, it’s all too easy to let paranoia cripple you. You can lose sight of the big picture. We’re about helping people. Which is why I helped you out. Just so we’re not sold later down the river.” He means so she won’t sell them out. 

 

“I’ll keep your secret.” She brings her hand up, her pinky sticking out, just to show that she’d pinky swear. Deacon gives it a look, but doesn’t reach to intertwine his with her. Sure, it was childish, but it means something serious for her. She brings her hand back down, feeling a little foolish that he just ignored her childish gesture, and bring her attention back to Deacon. “I’ve got a mission to go to, and I think you’re perfect for the job. Meet me at the abandoned highway - I’ll mark it on your map.” He then leans forward, invading her personal space, pressing onto the face of her PipBoy. Theresa stays silent, watching with careful eyes as he just effortlessly play with the technology. “Alright, I’ll see you there.” he gives her a smile, and she could see the outer corners of his eyes crinkle despite the rest of his eyes being covered by his sunglasses. “Yeah - ok.” 

 

“Hey, you got a minute?” Nick’s voice grabs her attention, and she begins to walk out of the catacombs of the church.

 

The two, Theresa and Nick travel back to GoodNeighbor first, stopping by KL-E-0 to buy some more ammunition. Nick tells Theresa (or Reese, as he likes to call her) about these flashes he’s been having recently. She only stops when he tells her about a girl. His girl. They stop once, halfway to the highway that Deacon had marked on her map, allowing Theresa time to get some sleep. It’s in the middle of the day, and they’ve managed to find a small little house to stay in for a couple of hours. 

 

Once she’s gotten a few winks in, they’re back on the road, talking about what they can do to find Nick’s villain. He suggests that she go back to the Cambridge Police Station where Paladin Danse and his asshole sidekick were at, earning an annoyed look from Theresa. It’s beginning to darken again when they get closer to their mark - and that’s when they’re attacked by a pack of wild mongrels. Theresa suffers minor bite wounds emptying her 10mm in all three, and Nick huffs at the amount of energy spent on the dogs. “ _Shit_ ,” she curses, pressing her left hand against her right forearm, an attempt to stop the bleeding found there. 

 

“You alright?” Nick asks, peeking over her shoulder at her arm, “Yeah, C’mon, we’re almost there.” Theresa keeps her gun holstered while they get closer to their mark. She only reaches for it when she’s startled by someone just standing in the dark, “Hey!” They call out, “This is my pile of garbage, asshole!” It takes her a moment before she realizes, “Deacon?” And she earns a smile from the Railroad agent. 

  
“Pretty good, right?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this literally less than 24 hours from when I wrote the first chapter just because I really wanted Theresa (aka my SS) to meet Deacon and I can't wait to start writing all the ship related stuff ugh i'm so ready for it i hate writing all the basis of the story but you gotta do what you gotta do. I hope this isn't too terrible, constructive criticism and thoughts are always appreciate!


	3. Crawl out through the fallout with the greatest of aplomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin on their tradecraft mission, and we finally get a glimpse of what Deacon has seen.

“You’re lucky I didn’t do a face swap on you, too!” Deacon informs her, earning a confused look from Theresa, “Face swaps?” She asks. “Yeah, yeah. I go under the knife at least twice a year. Gotta keep the people guessing.” She gives Nick an incredulous look (or what she can in the dark.) And Deacon continues, “The RailRoad has only recently started using the Old North Church as HQ. Our old base was under a Slocum Joe’s. It was pretty nice up until the Institute found us.”  “What happened?” The sole survivor asked, “That HQ was strong. We thought it was secure. But the Institute troopers breached the doors and turned it into a shooting gallery. Whoever survived didn’t have the chance to grab the essentials, so we’re getting something important we had to leave behind the first time.” 

“So what exactly are we looking for?” She asks,  “I’ll tell you once we’re in” he confesses, earning a scoff, “I know that’s a bum deal, but strategic ignorance has worked more times than I can count. So just stick with me. We’ve got a tourist nearby, and they have intel on the base. So, we’re gonna pump him for information before we barge in.” And with that, Deacon walks off and up pieces of the highway as a makeshift staircase. He’s beginning to talk, and Theresa struggles to keep up with him on such a steep walkway, “C’mon Nicky,” She calls out over her shoulder, looking for those familiar golden eyes. 

He talking about ‘rail signs’ and how these signs mean that there’s a fellow agent and talking about pluses and arrows and Theresa stays silent, not having anything to say. “Something tells me, we’re not alone.” Nick mutters from behind Theresa and the sole survivor quickly ducks down in an attempt to hide. It’s only then she hears the familiar growls and unholy noises of ghouls -  quickly taken care of with her 10mm and with Deacon and Nick’s guns backing her up. “Fuckin’ digusting,” she spits at the corpses before fearlessly sticking her hands in their pockets to see what they were carrying. “You’re, uh, really thorough. You know that?” Deacon cringes. Theresa smiles, bringing her hand up to show what treasure she found - a handful of bottle caps. 

“You do what you gotta do.” She shrugs before standing back up. He shudders a little, and she thinks this is hilarious. “What the Railroad doesn’t stick their hands in feral ghouls pockets in their spare time?” Thresea teases, and Deacon grimaces again and chooses to ignore whatever comments she has left. There are a few more ghouls that catch her off guard inside a bus when her greedy little fingers were too busy trying to unlock a suitcase. Theresa escapes with only a few scratches and minimal radiation. “Look,” Deacon calls, “Another rail sign, our tourist must be close.” 

There are only a few more steps taken before he turns back to look at Theresa, “Okay, whatever he says to you - you just say ‘Mine is in the shop’, got it?” She only gives a small nod, unsure of what she’s gotten herself into this time. Deacon leads her to a man standing by himself next to a lit lantern, and suddenly Theresa is feeling a little apprehensive, “Do you have a geiger counter?” The man starts, his voice rough and demanding, “Do you have a god damn geiger counter?” Silence falls over the three, and she realizes that she’s supposed to say what Deacon told her to say, “Uh -, mine is in the shop.” 

“Who the hell is he?” the stranger demands, and Theresa looks back over her shoulder at Deacon, confused as to why this RailRoad agent didn’t know who he was, “HQ said there was only gonna be one of you. Not two.” 

“I’m new,” Deacon lies, “She’s just showing me the ropes.” and that seems to sit well with the tourist. “Alright then. It’s about goddamn time ya’ll got HQ bastards got here.” which only earns an annoyed sigh, “It’s alright now,” Theresa starts, “We’re here. What’s the status update?” The tourist only seems more excitable than before, “That Slocum Joe’s of your’s is crawling with goddamn chrome dome synth sons of bitches! The front of the store is filled with mines all over the goddamn place!” Her eyebrows knit together, “They have a minefield?” 

“More like the mother of all minefields! Couldn’t draw you a map if I tried.” He grumbles, and she gives him a curt nod, “I appreciate this. Thank you.” Which seems to help because the tourist nods back, “I hope it helps. I really do. As soon as I can, I’m getting the hell out of here. If you need anything else, better go ahead and ask.” But she only shakes her head before turning away to go over her new information with Deacon. 

“Well, well, well. Isn’t Ricky just full of rainbows and butterflies. You think he’s telling the truth?” 

“I don’t see why he would lie to us. He’s a part of the RailRoad isn’t he?” Deacon laughs at her question, “People gotta lot of reasons to lie. The Institute could’ve turned him into one of their puppets. Or he could just be seriously pissed at us. Pick your poison. But odds are good we can take him at face value. First rule is never go against your guy. So if we take him for his word… The front is littered with mines, synths and other fun prizes!” This comment makes her laugh, “So we’re going in through the escape tunnel.” 

“Hold up, a donut shop has an escape tunnel?” Theresa asks, “What? Other donut shops doesn’t have an escape tunnel? Seriously, thank god for that tunnel. If it weren’t for the tunnel, there wouldn’t be a RailRoad today.” She thinks over their possible approaches, “Escape tunnel has got to be easier than a full frontal assault.” 

“Better, but it’s not gonna be a cakewalk.”  He pauses for a moment, “How about you lead us there? I’ve got your back, pal.” Theresa doesn’t move a for a moment, “Okay, but I don’t know which Slocum has an escape tunnel…” 

“Oh - right, here, let me mark it on your map.” and he’s back at invading her personal space, pressing on her PipBoy with quick fingers. She pulls back slightly, to look at her map, didn’t seem so bad, a little less than a mile away.

“Alright. Let’s get a move on boys.” 

 

*

 

When the general of the Minutemen waltzed in the Old North Church like it was no big deal - and he wasn’t there to meet her first? He knew they were screwed. He was the one who had watched her almost every move ever since she stepped foot into Diamond City. He knew she was a capable ally, and a dangerous enemy. He was sure that Dez would have said something that would’ve offended her and then they’d be sold out to the Brotherhood, or God forbid, the Institute. 

But she had to be someone if she was coming into Diamond City with that pesky reporter, Piper right? He had heard why she was in the city anyway, looking for that synth detective, but she was just as evasive as she was when she came to the HQ. Simply stating that there was a missing person and that she needed to find the detective right away. He had only been able to get a glimpse of her then. He saw that blue vault suit, with the bright yellow ‘111’ on the back, her dark brown hair tied up in a pony tail. He had seen the raider armor she must’ve ripped off one back where her vault was located. 

He saw her again in GoodNeighbor, with Nick in tow. She got her work down fast. And she managed to get to GoodNeighbor in one piece. This is where he’ll get to see her for the first time. But she’s gotten rid of the blue vault suit that shined like a beacon (and hugged in the right places) and replaced it with an outfit that looked like it didn’t fit her. Like she just took it off someone. Deacon’s leaning against the wall because KL-E-0’s place and Daisy’s, watching when she gets approached by the creep Finn. Always trying to extort people. He notices the fear that flashes across her face when the mayor, Hancock (who wasn’t the spy’s biggest fan), walks up and inserts himself in the situation. Their interaction is short lived, but the light from the statehouse illuminates the scavver’s face. 

She’s got olive skin, and a jagged scar that runs from under her left cheekbone down to her bottom lip. Although he works hard to make sure he never has a scar on one of his many faces so he’s never recognizable, her’s is remarkable. The only other scars he’s seen around the Commonwealth are on the ghouls, or the raiders if he’s gotten the pleasure of running into. But there’s something about this one that bears a different story - makes her more intriguing. Her eyes are lined with makeup that must be before she came out of the vault, and she’s rather small. 

The spy is almost certain the jig is up when she walks into KL-E-0’s, leaving Nick Valentine behind to wait outside where he’s standing. Sunglasses hiding his eyes, Deacon’s thankful that Valentine’s suspicious gaze can’t meet the naked eye. Although, he’s pretty sure Valentine knows what’s up. “C’mon, Nicky,” She calls out once she’s stepped out, her hand brandishing a new gun she’s just bought. Valentine’s gaze lasts a moment longer before he pushes himself off the column he’s been leaning on, and falls in step with the vault dweller. 

 

Not once has he heard her name. 

 

They walk into the Memory Den, and he’s not far behind, sneaking into Kent Conolly’s room to overhear Nick talking to Irma. It’s strange, though. They’re asking for Dr. Amari, and she does a lot of the memory resets for the synths that the RailRoad saves. But he doubts he’ll get any information if he would press her. 

Then he finds himself standing in front of her at their HQ, Glory’s minigun staring her right in the face. He lets it slip that he didn’t have to meet her to hear about her, and she seems suspicious on why he’s vouched for her when - they’ve never met. He becomes slightly panicked when Dez tells her that she’s going to be joining him on his mission, but swallows down his anxiety, and goes to meet the new girl. 

When he watches her interact with Ricky, she gives only one huff of annoyance, but is otherwise patient. She hears him out, and tries to calm him down slightly when he begins to get flustered even more. Deacon makes her laugh, and it feels a little like a personal victory - because it’s the first time he’s able to hear it. It’s small, but effortless, like she genuinely thought it was funny. The vault dweller doesn’t seem to be afraid to lead the mission, letting Deacon press the coordinates to the escape tunnel. She seems to have a natural authority. Both Deacon and Valentine exchange looks, before following her has she takes off in order to get back on the ground. 

It only takes the trio twenty minutes to get to the escape tunnel, and that’s when the dweller pauses for a moment. “Uh, Reese?” Valentine calls out, unsure of what’s wrong. 

 

Reese? Was that her name? 

 

“Sorry,” Reese apologizes, “Sorry,” she uses the butt of her rifle to lift the foliage from in front of the tunnel out of her way. The tunnel is dark, but Deacon doesn’t mind. Nick’s golden eyes give off a slight flashlight, and he’s thankful he’s behind both Nick and Reese. They move slowly, crouched and silent, and he can hear the turn of the doorknob that’ll lead them inside. With their footsteps soft against the metal of the tunnel, Reese walks to the end of the tunnel and peeks around the corner to see if there is going to be anyone waiting for them around the corner. But Deacon already knows there isn’t. “We’re in,” He begins, startling her, “Sorry. The back entrance is a lot safer than the front, but be ready for gen ones and gen twos.” 

“Gen ones and twos?” She questions, walking back to where he and Nick stood. “Earlier synth models. Like the type we saw protecting Kellogg.” Valentine explains, stepping on Deacon’s thunder. Reese opens her mouth wordlessly, apparently understanding. “Anyway, you should know why we’re here now. We have to retrieve a prototype developed by our very own Doctor Carrington.” 

“Alright,” she doesn’t allow for any more explanation, “Let’s find ourselves a prototype then.” 

This makes Deacon smile, “Alright. With you with me, I like our odds.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my longer ones but I actually really like this chapter because it allowed me to get in on Deacon's perspective. I've used some in game (aka canon) dialogue but there's a lot that's been changed around. obvi i don't claim rights to the NPCs and the dialogue they use in game. I'm hoping to get some more feels-y stuff in the next chapter and i promise i'll slow down jeez all i've been doing is writing recently sorry! I hope yall like it! Constructive criticism is always welcome, thanks!


	4. You know what I mean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tradecraft follows through, Theresa says what we're all thinking about radroaches, and there are a lot of double doors in this Slocum Joe's

Deacon’s comment gives Theresa an extra boost of confidence,  before she turns away and crawls out of the escape tunnel. There’s a light that’s seeping through the security door in front of her, and Theresa reaches up to find a lock on, only to grasp at nothing. “Shit,” she swears, she’s can’t exactly pick a lock that doesn’t exist. So she walks around to see if she can unlock the terminal, only to come face to face with nothing but numbers and nonsense. “Nick,” Theresa turns around to ask him if he’s able to go and unlock the door from the terminal, only to see Deacon already on his way there, “I’m on it!” He declares, “I’m gonna feed it some passwords.” The duo wait, hearing Deacon murmur to himself while clicking on the keyboard. “Aha. Missed one, you bastards.” He mutters (mainly to himself) which makes Theresa and Nick exchange looks. But Nick lifts a non-existent eyebrow and Theresa smiles, “The prototype is inside.” Deacon explains, turning around to face the two. He brings up a hand ot show that he’s going to wait for Theresa to go first. 

She walks through the door, slowly, being only slightly startled when Deacon’s voice rings out, “Here’s another Rail sign,” he calls, “This one -, uh, this one means danger. Watch out.” And sure enough there’s a dead body laying right in front of her. No matter how many times she’s killed someone ( be it a raider, or a super mutant) Theresa still finds that uneasiness that settles in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t a killer - she didn’t like doing it, the thought at playing God was too much to bear, especially at night. But it’s those nights that she’s thankful for Nick. She pauses for a moment, before sticking her hands in the pockets of the dead RailRoad agent, and Theresa can almost feel the disapproval radiating off of Deacon. It’d probably be different if he wasn’t an agent. 

They continue on slowly, Theresa ripping a power relay chord from a destroyed turret in front of them before heading down the makeshift staircase. She freezes when she spots the first synth they have to battle - but he appears to be alone. The sole survivor takes slow, quiet steps before bringing her shotgun up to her shoulder and waiting for that  _ perfect  _ shot to show up. When the synth stops in his tracks, his chest right in her line of fire, she shoots. 

The gun kicks back deliciously, making her feel as if she’s just back in the shooting gallery again, and parts of the synth splitter off because of the assault. He brings up his pistol, automated voice ringing out, “Is someone there?” but Theresa pulls the trigger again, effectively knocking out the entire chest piece of the robot. She crouches down, surveying the area for any more enemies and nearly shrieks when the water begins to move. “Oh my God,” she whispers out, panicked, as a radroach squeaks and makes it’s way towards her, “Oh my God, oh my God,” Theresa repeats before reaching for her baseball back, “Eugh!” She groans in disgust bringing the blunt object down so forcefully she’s sure she’s broken it. The sole survivor hits the radroach again, just for good measure before giving an involuntary shiver which makes Deacon laugh, “What? You can handle super mutants and feral ghouls, but you can’t deal with a little radroach?” making Theresa swear under her breath, “Shut up! These things used to be small back in my time, and now they’re the size of a fucking cat!” But her comment even makes Nick laugh. She scowls and wades quickly through the water to find dry land again. There’s another dead body that makes her cringe again before she sticks her hands in it’s pockets, shoving a handful of bottle caps in her own. “Wait!” Deacon calls out, and Theresa freezes in her spot, “See that box in that rail sign up there? That means there’s a cache nearby. Look around.” 

Why do I have to do all the looking around, she wonders to herself before crouching down and looking in the walls for anything to catch her eye. It’s only when she turns around to tell Deacon that there is in fact no cache that she spots it, an ammo box and a tool box sitting pretty for her. Theresa all of rips the boxes open and hands out the guns that she finds there, ammo quickly being dispersed out after. The trio is silent until they come across yet another dead body, but this time she doesn’t search this one. She just wants to get out of here. “Looks like Tom managed to turn on some defenses. Slowed the Coursers down a bit, but it probably saved some lives.” 

“Coursers?” She asks, looking over her shoulder. 

 

“Be thankful you haven’t run into one of those. If you do - just  _ run _ .” Deacon warns, and suddenly Theresa is afraid that there might one of those coursers in here. She crawls over the debris of the turret in front of her and is able to unlock the terminal hanging on the wall. It controls the spotlight she disregarded earlier, and she deactivates it - one less gun shooting at them. They make it down the staircase and she reaches for her rifle this time, pulling the trigger quickly to catch the synths off guard. She only manages to kill one of them before she realizes that there are three more just in this room. This was gonna be a long mission. 

 

“They must want to protect something awfully precious..” Nick muses, once they’ve past another gaggle of destroyed turrets. She’s had him look at all the terminals they’ve passed to see if he can unlock them, one after the other. One of them was able to reactive one that was just in front of four synths, which did most of the work for them. Another was in front of another pearly white gate ( note: this gate is not pearly white, but a dull gray steel. ) and Nick was able to get it open for them. It’s here when they meet four more synths, Deacon’s going on about this not really being a Slocum Joe’s but a secret defense intelligence agency research lab. Called the Switchboard. The sole survivor wrinkles her eyebrows at the thought, but it's here when she gets shot in the arm by pistol the synth is bearing. Thankfully, Kellogg’s armor manages to cushion most of it, and Theresa assumes there will be only a dark bruise once she’s takes it off. 

“The prototype is further in, we’re almost there. Are you ok?” Deacon asks, but she shrugs it off, “I’m fine.” Ignoring the pain of her arm, the sole survivor make her way up the stairs and through the double doors, only to meet a dangerous number of tripwires. She brings her uninjured arm up, and carefully steps over the first, successfully avoiding tripping it. The boys follow and quickly takes out the synths here. Suddenly, silence falls of the hallways, but Theresa is not buying it. She makes her way through another pair of double doors, dipping behind one in case there was someone waiting for her on the other side. When there proves to be no one, her suspicions raise. Standing tall, she takes quick soundless steps, turning the corner and finding another pair of double doors. But unlike the first two, she presses her ear to the surface, seeing if she can hear any movement on the other side. 

The sole survivor isn’t sure if it’s her tinnitus or circuits whirring, so she brazenly yanks the two doors open, and firing on whatever she finds there. There’s only three here, but she’s shot yet again, in the leg this time. Kellogg’s armour does nothing to protect her this time and Theresa can feel her leg become wet with blood. 

 

She sure as hell hopes this is all worth is. 

 

Deacon’s shuffling to the terminal, and Theresa takes a seat on the floor, probing her fingers around her gunshot wound and wincing slightly. “Where’s that play button..” Deacon wonders before playing a tape, “Carrington. Stanley. Salus aegroti suprema lex.” a recording reads off. Nick gives Theresa a worried look, but she waves it off, and nods to the large steamer trunk on the table. That seems more valuable than she does right now. “‘Patient safety law’?” She repeats in English, making Deacon turn around, “You speak gibberish?” He asks before the large safe door creaks open.

“That’s latin.” Theresa informs him and Deacon forces a laugh, “Haha. Yeah,” before heading inside of the safe. 

She’s managed to get the bleeding under control and rolls up her pant leg, the fabric coming up easily since the pants were two sizes too big. Theresa hisses when she reaches her thigh, the blood found there begins to run again and she presses her sleeve against it there. “So Tommy Whisper didn’t make it. He died protecting our secrets,” She can hear Deacon from within the safe, and after a quick jab of a stimpak she’s up and limping slightly to the safe. Nick joins her soon, a hazmat suit and ammo stuffed in his pockets. He leans down to the dead body, taking a gun out of his hands, “Here, Tommy would want you to have his hand cannon,” he leans back up handing a gun to her, “Don’t let it’s size fool you.” That makes Theresa force down a laugh, “What’s so special about it?” 

“Tinker restored it, you’ll meet him later. It’s cutting edge old world tech. Powerful and more importantly, quiet.” But still she doesn’t take the gun from his hands, “Seriously. Take it.” Deacon all but  grabs her hand and pushes the gun towards her. “You’ll never find another gun like it.” So Theresa takes a moment to look at it, it’s dark with a long silencer on the muzzle, something that is definitely danger. She smiles, “Thanks.” There’s a moment where silence falls over them, the sole survivor tucking her new present away, tucking it in her gun and pant leg into her boot. “Grab Carrington’s prototype. You turn that into Dez and she’ll  _ have  _ to let you into our merry band.” 

Brown eyes search the safe carefully, finding a small gray box that she can only assume is what she needs to take back, and she holds it up for Deacon’s approval, “Alright - let’s get a move on.” Theresa declares, tucking the prototype under her arm. “There’s an elevator at the end of the hall. It’s gonna be a hell of a lot easier fighting the synths on this side of the mine field. I’ll lead.” He offers, before turning away and walking out. Nick offers a hand to Theresa to help her walk, but she only smiles before following Deacon. Her leg begins to ache when she puts her weight on it, but she doesn’t slow down - forcing herself to keep up with the RailRoad agent. 

 

“Wait, wait wait!” Theresa calls out, making Deacon freeze in his spot, “What?” She points at his feet, where there glows a mine. “Shit. Thanks,” He tips his hat before carefully stepping over it. She pauses behind him, as he makes his up the stairs, carefully grabbing the explosive. Skilled fingers manage to deactivate it quickly, before she hands it to Nick, “Careful with that thing.” She warns. He gives her an unamused look, “Thanks,” making Theresa smile, “No problem.” The sole survivor jogs slightly, attempting to catch up with her lead and ignoring the pain in her leg, and they’re met with yet another pair of double doors. The synths on the other side are taken down quickly by the trio, Deacon suffering a minor gunshot wound. “Mm!” He grunts, “Arm’s out of commission.” and concern comes over Theresa, “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he tells her, “Let’s just power up this elevator and get the hell out of here.” She nods, setting down the prototype before clicking quickly on the terminal, deactivating turrets and powering up the elevator again. Her small hand picks up the box again before getting in the elevator. The boys take their time to get in, namely Nick who is a little worn down with extra items she’s asked him to hold, and she can finally relax a little. Theresa leans against the wall, easing pressure off her leg, which has begun to bleed again. “Reese, you gonna be alright?” Nick asks reaching out with his broken hand - Deacon watching carefully from behind the safety of his sunglasses. “I’ll be fine, Nicky. I’m just focused on getting us out of here.” 

The rest of the elevator ride seems to take forever, and silence falls over them, making the sole survivor feel a little uncomfortable. Deacon pushes a piece of wood that blocks the exit of the elevator and holds it open for the the duo. The agent walks quickly up the many staircases, Theresa not far behind, cradling the box in her left arm. But this is where they’re met with four synths and two turrets that begin to whale on them. Her shotgun is the weapon of choice that she uses, making sure that she doesn’t lose her precious cargo. Both Deacon and Theresa are shot again, but it’s Nick that gets pummeled by the turrets from upstairs. “Nick!” She calls out, stuffing the prototype into the front of her pants to reach out for the synth. She crawls over to where her friend lays on the ground, bringing her shotgun up and shooting twice at the last remaining enemy on the top floor. 

“Just give me a minute,” Nick brings his hand up to stop her, and she nods getting back up to check on Deacon, “Hey, you alright?” Theresa asks, and he nods, holding a hand to his arm, “Yeah. Let’s split up and head back to HQ.” He tells her with another tip of his hat. With Nick laying in the hallway, she throws a concerned look over her shoulder, “Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll see you there.” the agent makes his way out the front entrance and that’s when a cold chill run down her spine because she’s just remember the warning Ricky gave her before they started.  _ The mother of all minefields _ . 

 

“Deacon, wait!” 

 

But it’s too late. He walks right into a mine, throwing him back against the tile of the donut shop. He yelps out in pain but gets back up quickly, “I’m ok!” He announces, dragging his leg behind him. From the way it hangs there, Theresa can only assume that it’s broken. She notices that he’s holding his side in an attempt to relieve the pain, and he continues to walk, defiant on getting back to the headquarters. Nick comes up behind her, startling her, and holding his arm together, “Let’s go home first.” He tells her, and Theresa nods. 

It takes them two days to get back to Sanctuary, and Nick has managed to get Theresa’s bleeding under control. So naturally, Theresa’s first order of business when they get back is getting Nick repaired. “Sturges!” She calls out, finding the mechanic working on repairing a wall to the main house. “What can I do for ya?” He turns around, hammer in hand, “I need you to put Nick’s arm back together. I know you, and I know you can fix anything.” And Sturges brings his hand up to stop her, “No problemo. I’m on it.” And Nick goes into the main house, with Sturges who grabs his tool box. 

“Need a hand, General?” A voice rings out, and Theresa turns out, a smile coming over her face, “Preston.” she answers affectionately, “Would you?” The two spend the next couple of hours getting repaired, Preston asking what kind of gun was used when she was shot, and who was behind it. She explains that it was a laser pistol, as she gets fabric wrapped around both her thigh (which made poor Preston blush) and her arm. Nick finishes an hour later than she does, his arm whirring like new again, and Theresa smiles at her friend. “I’m gonna get some sleep.” She explains, heading back to her old house. “Want me to come with?” Nick asks, and Theresa gives him a teasing look, but nothing else, and he follows quickly. 

 

It’s not like it’s a secret that Nick and Theresa are sort of a thing in Sanctuary. Preston and Sturges don’t pay any mind, finding other things that more important than Theresa’s relationships (Preston’s only a little upset that he and the General didn’t end up together.) But Marcy has  _ plenty  _ to say, only careful that she doesn’t say it around either Nick or Theresa. She calls it an abomination, and warns that Nick is only a spy for the Institute, despite his reputation in Diamond city. But it’s not like Theresa and Nick fucked in their spare time in Sanctuary ( it had only progressed to second base the  _ one  _ time. ) The walls of her old home were still slightly damaged, and she was in the progress of repairing the walls of her bedroom, so it’s not like they could do anything in the first place. Nick takes his place on the bed, legs spread just enough for the sole survivor to slip between them. There isn’t any air conditioning like there was before she was frozen, and Theresa is forced to suffer through the heat of the night (until she can get a generator made to power some fans) but she’ll manage because Nick’s synthetic skin is cool to the touch. 

He doesn’t move when she’s lays on top of him, allowing her to get comfortable before he can rest easy. It takes her a second, trying to avoid the wound in her arm and her leg, but she finds that spot where she’s comfortable and closes her eyes. Theresa's tanned cheek rests against Nick’s chest plate, the shirt of his detective's shirt. “We should head back out tomorrow for the RailRoad,” Theresa mumbles, “They’ll want to know where this prototype is when Deacon gets there.” and Nick hums, bringing his skeletal hand up to rest on top of her head, “Sure thing.” He agrees. Theresa is the first to fall asleep, snoring slightly, then Nick who enters rest mode for a couple of hours. He’s the one who wakes up first, Theresa still asleep and pressed onto his chest plate, listening to his motor running. Nick let’s her sleep for a little bit longer, leaning his face to the top of her head. His vault dweller, his hero, his sole survivor. She was so much tougher than she was when she walzed into Park Street station, taking out Skinny Malone’s gang. But Nick saw how hostile she had gotten when her sidekick, devoted Dogmeat, was injured in the line of fire. He thought she could be just as fierce as a raider. But all of that changed when she sat down in his office, to tell him and Ellie what happened in Vault 111. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW this one got long. I've been working on it for a while, and a lot of is just small details of the mission, but I really really like this chapter. Also am I the only one that is completely grossed out by radroaches???? like y'all....that's the size of a cat... i can't even handle roaches at being the size of an eraser! I also can't do radscorpions or boat flies. We got to see a little more of theresa and nick's relationship, and have decided that the relationships found here will be polyamorous. However, I will be focusing the next couple of chapters more on Deacon and Theresa's relationship. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, I worked really hard on it, i think deacon can actually understand latin (he reads Proust for god's sake), and deacon really did walk into one of the mines when i was playing through this mission and literally walked like he had broken his leg, but he wouldnt like me give him a stimpak. Constructive criticism and kudos are always welcome <3


	5. Kiss those radiation burns away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the history of a girl and her synth boyfriend. Theresa joins her new team but for a cost.

He remembers when she came into his office, bloodied, bruised, and exhausted. Nick offered his room to her, grateful for saving him from Skinny Malone, and more than willing to give up his bed he only uses to go into rest more. But she waved it off - she  _ wanted  _ to tell him and Ellie about what happened to her and her baby boy. She wanted to tell him about the vault. She wanted to tell him everything before she could sleep another night. He had seen the look in her eye, this moment obviously playing over and over and over again in her mind. Nick could tell that she was terrified, upset, and tired, and couldn’t help but want to keep an eye on her. Asking if she’d like him to travel with her - offering his companionship, especially to give that poor dog a chance to take a nap. She was reluctant, and it was obvious that she enjoyed the silent companionship that came with her dog. Theresa later explained that she didn’t like to work in groups of three often. Went on to explain that she either works in pairs or fours, that way - every man has someone watching his back. They traveled together for three months, had found Kellogg, while helping out the Minutemen when they needed them ( which seemed to be quite often. ) finding themselves fighting raiders, super mutants, and even bugs.  _ Bugs _ . There were nights that seemed last forever, and there were nights that seemed like they lasted only minutes. 

The first kiss was on the synth’s cheek, when Nick had told Theresa about old Nick - the _real_ Nick, and about how he couldn’t live with himself knowing that all of these feelings weren’t his own. The synth had felt so crummy about himself, Theresa wished that he couldn’t feel sadness at all. She told him that Nick Valentine ( the real Nick Valentine ) was from her time. What she _didn’t_ tell him that she had met Nick Valentine once, at a Veteran’s benefit when the detective had been invited to speak. She had only reached forward, putting her hand on Nick’s shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It had made his circuits whir, and if he had blood his cheeks would’ve reddened with embarrassment, his golden eyes staring at her as if she had mirelurk on her back. But those brown eyes just stared back, giving a smile, and turning her back to continue on. She was affectionate, Nick had noticed when she was with Dogmeat. But she was affectionate with him as well - grabbing his skeleton-like hand and holding it as if he were her lover. She called him ‘Nicky’ something Ellie never did, or anyone for that matter ( perhaps he had heard it before from Jenny ) and it made his head swim. 

The most important part is that Theresa was unapologetically accepting with him being a synth. She was sure that every time he was repaired after they’ve finished a job and they returned to Sanctuary., introducing him and assuring everyone that Nick was safe and she would keep a watchful eye over him. Nick was almost certain that she only said that to make sure no one would tinker with his delicate machinery while she wasn’t looking.Theresa had only gotten a few unsure looks, and only one outraged one ( this being from Marcy Long ) And even though the sole survivor knew that Nick didn’t need a place to sleep, she still fashioned a mattress on an old bed frame in her own home. Theresa had put him in Shawn’s room - his old crib rotten and falling apart, but pushed slightly to the side to make room for him. He had felt bad when he knew he wasn’t going to be using it much, and she had insisted that he take the room anyway. Many times when they left for another settlement or to go to Diamond City to get supplies, Theresa would kiss Preston on the cheek ( and he would blush, just as Nick wanted to when she had kissed him for the first time ) before setting off into the sunset, chatting away with her unlikely valentine. 

Their first actual kiss would happen weeks later, while they were holed up in an abandoned Red Rocket truck stop at night, a few radstags grazing about outside. And it had been raining. Theresa had found a few sleeping bags in the back room, two skeletons still in them. She had been quiet when she found them there, removing them delicately and moving them to a different room. He couldn’t be quite sure - perhaps his hearing was beginning to go out, but he could have sworn that he heard her muttering in another language ( was she praying? ) before she came back in. Thunder made the walls quiver, and Theresa had shaken the bags of any bug or dust before hurriedly making her way into one. Nick took a moment going around the perimeter again before ducking back inside to prevent his joints to rust even more. Theresa had left the sleeping bag closest to the wall, where Nick slipped in and leaned against it, laying on top of his sleeping back instead of in it. The sole survivor curled up in her own, before scooting closer to the synth. “Is this alright?” She had whispered in the dark, Nick’s eyes giving a soft golden glow before them. 

His voice was soft, and he had shifted slightly, offering his shoulder to her. Theresa leaned up and had taken it, her shoulder resting on top of his before, brown eyes staring up at the weathered face in front of her ( or rather, what she could see of it. ). “Yeah, doll,” he murmured back, eyes looking back up when lightning struck and had lit up the entire stop. She had jumped slightly, leaning up just in case there was something else lurking in the dark. When silence falls over the stop again, Theresa turns back to Nick who keeps his back against the solid surface. He can barely make out the outline of her face the shadows of her nose, but her irises are dark, almost swallowing the whites of her eyes. But he can hear her body shift, see her hand fall on the ground next to his, her face becoming visible once again when she leans in close. 

But there’s something that stops her. She’s inches away, and Nick hasn't moved at all so she can decide on what she wants. His circuits feel as if they’re on fire, ends burning in anticipation - golden eyes moving from her eyes to her lips. Theresa keeps still, as if trying to tell him that if this is something that he wants, he needs to let her know. He needs to show that it’s not just her. That her feelings are reciprocated, that she’s not just imagining all of it. Lightning strikes again, loud thundering accompanying it as it lights up their room for a split second. And that’s when Nick leans forward slowly, keeping his hands on the ground, his exposed one reaching for her pinky. He’s centimeters from her face for a moment, her breath hitting his synthetic skin softly before he closes the gap between them. 

It’s his first kiss since Jenny. Well. Ever. The first since he woke up in that pile of trash. No one in Diamond City has even thought about kissing a synth, except maybe Ellie, who has kissed him on the forehead once or twice. Her lips are soft, and are not what he’s expecting against his own - but they press harder against him, earning a sigh from Theresa. She doesn’t expect his lips to feel cool against her’s and they move in a strange way, and she’s not sure if it’s the electricity running through him or arousal that makes her lips burn. 

The sole survivor breaks away, attempting to catch her breath, but leans her forehead against Nick’s - tipping his hat back. His skin feels like heaven against her’s, and the pair find themselves in silence yet again before Nick begins to say something. “What took you so -,” he doesn’t finish when Theresa presses her lips against his again, fervently. It’s rougher than their first one, her hands fisting in his trenchcoat and pulling him impossibly close to her. If he had eyelids, they would have fluttered shut, and if he had blood, it’d be pumping like no other. His completed hand comes up to support the back of her head, pressing harder into her. Finally, her passion seems to dwell slightly and Theresa pulls away gently. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

  
  


Her joints crack when she wakes up the next morning, Nick shaking her gently, “Doll,” he whispers, “It’s seven a.m.,” The mention of the time makes her groan, quickly disapproving of how early it was. Nick shakes her again, leaning up to force her awake, “Nicky, no,” Theresa whined, allowing herself to be pushed up, her eyes squinting against the sun that shined through the holes of her wall. She climbs out of bed and stretches for a moment, the rest of her joints cracking from her sleeping position of last night. Tying on Kellogg’s boots on takes a few moments, Theresa focusing on keeping them tight, but not too tight, much like her uniform boots from her military days. Her pants still don’t fit quite right, and she pulls her hair up into a tight pony tail. “We should get to the Railroad around eleven - maybe noon if we leave now.” Theresa informs Nick, who is fiddling with his sleeve of his shirt, “So, should we hit the road?” He asks, looking back up at her, a small smile coming across his face. 

She reaches for her rucksack ( the only thing that survived the fucking nuclear war, despite being held together with duct tape ), digging around for the mutt chops she had made the other day, finding it dried like jerky and shoving it in her mouth without second thought. Quick hands grab her 10mm, and her laser pistol, passing a rifle and a submachine gun to Nick. With a tip of his hat to Preston when they walk out into the sun, the pair began their journey to the Old North church. 

 

She’s always quiet when they’re walking like this, to Diamond City, Goodneighbor, or even back to Sanctuary. Didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention, didn’t want to run into anything nasty. Which is pretty hard to do in the capital wasteland. But it doesn’t help when Theresa goes into every abandoned store she can find to look for some food for herself, or something that she can find useful for her settlements. Nick wonders if she was like this before the war, if she was one of those girls who spent house in little shops, looking at nicknacks before taking armful of tiny things home. Nick wonders if her husband was as annoyed as he would be when Theresa would stop at a shop. Ghouls are the only things that the pair runs into, Theresa taking them down with multiple shots to the chest with her 10mm. It seems as if this point, she’s not even blinking when she does it. Nick doesn’t comment on that. She does get scratched up a bit, and he manages to talk her into stopping so that she can apply some bandages and a stimpak (  _ just  _ to be sure ). Nick can only sit there and be watch while she tends to her wounds, hissing when that needle pierces her skin. 

They only stopped for a few minutes, Theresa holding her head in her hands bent over herself. Nick walks over and puts his skeleton hand on her back. “You alright, doll?” He asks, sitting down next to her. The sole survivor takes a deep breath, nodding her head slowly. “Yeah,” she reassures, “Yeah, I just needed a minute to rest. I’m alright now, I’m okay.” and with that, she’s forced herself up from the bench, and stretches her arms. Golden eyes watch her, and she’s nearly out the door when she turns to look at Nick, “You coming?” It’s the only thing Nick needs to hear before he’s up and right behind her, his metal fingers reaching for her empty hand. He hears her take another deep breath, before she looks over at Nick, giving him a small smile that almost looks tired. In this moment, Nick feels something he only feels for his clients. 

Theresa won't let him feel sorry for her, she’s got too much on her mind for her Nick to feel bad for her. She’s been through too much to find Shaun, she doesn’t need anyone else’s pity. But still, she pulls Nick along, and puts her gun away - they were only feet away from the Old North church. She makes a beeline for the entrance, keeping her eyes down from the large organ and throughout the catacombs. It reeks of death, and it is nearly impossible to see without Theresa’s pipboy flash light. Nick grumbles something about it being dark down here, asking her if she was still there, to which she reaches for his hand again. The big secret door is open this time, saving Theresa the pain of having to redo the decoder ring. She can hear Deacon talking excitedly to Desdemona, and it’s only when they get closer can Theresa actually understand what he’s saying. 

 

“So, the newbie patched me up, throws me over her shoulder, and goes out guns blazing! Synths everywhere!” Deacon raves, “Carrying you the whole time?” Theresa comes in close enough to see Desdemona’s figure. “Amazing, right?” He lies, again. “That’s one word for it.” And that’s when Dez turns to look at Theresa and Nick, “Deacon here has told me that you single handedly got carrington’s prototype, disabled a minefield and wipe out a mass of gen 1s. Is that true?” She questions, and the sole survivor doesn’t answer for a moment. She doesn’t like to lie, and Nick surely doesn’t like to either - so Theresa attempts to find something that they’ll both be comfortable with. 

 

“Does it matter? The job’s done.” 

 

The answer seems to be enough for Desdemona, “I was expecting Deacon to need a full team for this mission, but instead you two - or shall I say, three,” Dez gestures towards Nick standing behind her,  “cleared out the switchboard. - ” 

“You’d be insane not to sign her up.” Deacon interrupts, earning an annoyed look from his boss before she continues.“You’ve made your impression on Deacon. He’s never spoken, gushed, or lied about anyone so highly before. Welcome to the Railroad, agent.” Are words that Theresa is not expecting, but being apart of a collective again is exciting. Yeah, being the general ( several ranks above what she was when she was in the military ) of the Minutemen was nice, but it didn’t feel authentic. It felt like it was just, given to her because she was able to save those five out of the Museum of Freedom. They followed her, didn’t question her authority, and gave her the reigns of the operation without a second question. Theresa takes a deep breathe, suddenly relieved at the fact that she’s a part of a team again.

“Happy to be here.” she tells Desdemona with a small smile forming on her face.  

If this actually pleases Dez, she doesn’t show it, “So you’re in. Now we need to know what to call you. Secrecy keeps us alive, so you’ll need a code name. What would you like to be yours?” Theresa takes a moment, thinking about all the nicknames she’s had in the past. The nicknames from the army,  _ sierra five _ ,  _ captain _ ,  _ soldier _ . The nicknames from Nate,  _ baby _ ,  _ Ree _ ,  _ honey _ . The nicknames from Nick,  _ Reese _ ,  _ doll _ ,  _ sweetheart _ . Her silence is noted, “Take your time. This is an important decision.” The rest of the company that’s waiting around begins to spark up conversations with each other, as if to give Theresa some privacy in picking her new codename. Her new identity. “Bullseye.” She settles, thinking of her sharp shooting abilities. Dez has a small smile that forms on her face, “From what Deacon tells me, that code name is well deserved.” A flicker of eyes fall over Deacon, whose eyes are still covered with his sunglasses, before she looks back to Dez. “Your first order to meet with Doctor Carrington and give him his prototype. But in the meantime, it’s time for you to meet with the rest of our merry gang.” With that she turns her back on Theresa and begins to walk through the hole in the wall. 

There’s minigun - also known as Glory. There’s another agent that she never saw standing there, Drummer Boy, whose job it was to find all the dead drops for agents like her. Theresa gives both agents a small smile and nod. That’s when she follows Desdemona through a door she never would have guessed was amongst the rubble, finding a pair of stairs - and an entire headquarters. All under the Old church! This whole time! Nick follows slowly behind her, Deacon behind him, breaking off once he was able to, to talk to one of the agents. Desdemona brings up her hand to gesture to a man in a white lab coat, and tie. Theresa only assumes this is the Doctor Carrington she’s being lugging around a five pound prototype for, immediately taking it out of her rucksack, “Desdemona told me that this is your’s.” She holds it out with both hands for Doctor Carrington to take. “An extraordinary feat, but that is barely the point,” he starts, almost yanking the box out of her hand. A confused look comes over her face and Nick shifts uncomfortably behind her, “Without any training and us hardly knowing anything about you, Desdemona has invited you to join HQ. It would’ve been nice if she had come to her second in command,” He grumbles, looking down at the prototype, “But what’s done is done.” Theresa remains silent, confused as to why she’s being yelled at for doing her job, and Doctor Carrington sighs, “Since you’re already here, and we can’t get rid of you - we might as well put you to work.” Part of her wants to know if she’s done something wrong, but she knows that questioning him further will most likely only irritate him further. “Tell me what you need.” Nick brings out his notebook, to take down any important notes, but Theresa only stands there to listen. 

Doctor Carrington speaks of an agent, Old Man Stockton who needed help with a  runaway synth. He seems irritated at the thought of sending her out, only because it seems as if ‘headquaters puts out the fires the others can’t be bothered to put out.’ He tells her that there is a dead drop on mailbox with a rail sign on it. He reminds her that it’s important for her to use the countersign when other members of the railroad ask her for ‘a geiger counter’. “Stockton is a prominent businessman in Bunker Hill. Your dead drop will be near there. Use the escape tunnel in the back to get there quicker. And take Deacon with you,” he pauses to gesture towards him, making Theresa look over her shoulder at Nick, “Get him out of my hair for a little while longer.” With that, Doctor Carrington turns away from her, busying himself with something at his workstation. 

Theresa turns around to face her synth. He knows he’ll have to leave if she decides to take Deacon with her to Bunker Hill. She doesn’t like to work in trios for that long. He knows that. But he reckons that it’ll be easier for her if he just decides that he go anyway. “Doll, I’ll head back to Sanctuary.” 

“Are you sure?” She asks, her voice hushed. 

“Yes.” is his only answer. 

Theresa pauses, wiggling her toes, in thought. She doesn’t want to make Nick go back to Sanctuary alone - she doesn’t want him to leave, period. “I’ll send word,” She starts, “When I get to Bunker Hill.” To which Nick gives a shake of his head, “Don’t worry about it, Reese. Just focus on doing your job, okay? Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright.” and with that, he gives her a kiss on the forehead and walks out the door. Theresa’s silent for a moment, and just watches Nick leave, before looking down at her Pip-Boy. She takes a deep breathe to calm down, but looks back up to her new H.Q., her new team. She isn’t sure which way to turn for a moment, attempting to locate Deacon, when his vice rings out behind her, “Ready to go, Boss?” Brown eyes finally sunglasses, and find Deacon in a white shirt - and with no hair. Confusion washed over her ( when did he change? ) but she nods slowly, “Yeah, yeah let’s go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I've been working on this chapter for a really long time and I wasn't sure how to end it, and i was really sad to say goodbye to Nick, but we'll see Nicky again soon!! It's a little shorter, sorry, but I promise to make it up to y'all!! But this allows us to finally get in with Deacon and I need it like air pls let me kiss the liar. I'm working on the next chapter while you are reading this because I'm super excited to get the Deacon train going. I hope y'all liked this chapter, it's kind of a filler chapter so I'm a little nervous to put it in, but I really do hope y'all like it.


	6. When you hear me call out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon and Theresa go out on their first mission together, and learn some things about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. This one is longer (i think) and i've been editing a lot for the past few months, so i hope y'all like this one!

“You know,” Theresa starts, “Bunker Hill used to be South. Not North.” She lands her hand on one of her guns holstered on her outer thigh. “You lost me, boss,” Deacon tells her, his sunglasses glinting in the light. “Bunker hill,” She repeats, like he didn’t hear her the first time, “The battle of Bunker hill. It’s South. Not North. I’ve been there before.” She doesn’t say ‘before the war’ or ‘before the bombs’ and Deacon lets this sit between them for a moment, “There’s nothing but ghouls and deathclaws down there now.” It’s almost a whisper, and Theresa almost misses it. They meet two mirelurks on their way, at the end of the bridge, panic running through her momentarily. Her hunting rifle comes off her back, a large bayonet all but duct taped on it, and she shoots - aiming for it’s face. It takes a few more times before she’s finally killed it, Deacon taking on the second one, “I was hoping these would all be dead by now,” He confesses, finally killing his. Theresa laughs, before walking over to his, “You ever eat these things?” She asks, bringing her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.

  


Deacon shrugs, noncommittally, and Theresa makes a face, “I’ve never tried them before.” And with that she turns over the gargantuan crab before ripping off a few legs and ripping the meat from them. “Guess I’ll have to try it.” She busies herself, wrapping it up in a cloth before putting it in her rucksack. The rest of the walk is quick, the sole survivor counts fifteen minutes from when they killed the two crabs when they reach a large settlement. That’s when she realized that they meant the Bunker Hill memorial. “You, stop right there!” She hears a voice call out from the entrance, a woman who looked an awful lot like Desdemona. With a gun pointed at her. “What are you? Raider or Caravan?” Theresa forces her eyes to stay trained on her, “We’re here on our own.” She calls to her, attempting to stay calm. That seems to satisfy her, “Alright. You can come in, but no gunfire. Market’s open, you do as much trading as you like.”  


“What is it with people pointing guns at everyone they see?” She asks Deacon, her tone light. Deacon shrugs again, but a smile comes across his face. Earning a smile from Theresa as well. There’s a moment of silence between them as they walked up the stairs, “Ol’ man is gonna be at the bar,” Deacon whispers, and when Theresa turns to look to him, she finds his face much closer than she anticipated. She doesn’t say anything, only turning her head abruptly away, as if to spare herself from saying completely inappropriate. Theresa looks to the people of Bunker Hill, the children that run about, the few ghouls that were in her presence, one who seemed rather interested in her and Deacon. There are a few bars once she’s in one of the buildings, but it’s almost completely empty. Her steps slow, and Deacon slows with her, his side nearly brushing her sleeve. 

Cautious steps take a few more minutes, but she sees a man, sitting by himself behind the bar farthest from them.

  
“Hi,” She greets, meekly, unsure of what she’s about to run into. The old man, dressed in a nice black suit, smiled at her, “Welcome my friend. Might I ask, do you have a geiger counter?” Theresa looks over her shoulder, as to make sure that there was no one around the trio before giving the countersign, “Mine is in the shop.” to which, Old man Stockton smiles at her, “You’re with our mutual friend, yes?” his smile eases her nerves slightly, and she nods at him. “I am.”

 

“You’ve only just joined, haven’t you? All you need to know is that this the first stop for all our… packages.” He pauses to make sure that she understands, and the sole survivor nods again, “So maintaining security and preventing any sort of unnecessary delays is crucial.” She’s under a time crunch. “This package has been in possession for far too long. I’m supposed to deliver it to a nearby location, but raiders have complicated matters. Would you…?” Theresa’s nod is slow, it almost isn’t a nod, but her eyebrows come up in understanding. “It’s scheduled for a nightly delivery. If you can clean out the undesirables by dawn, we can deliver this tonight. Good luck.” And with that, she turns about face, and leaves without another word. The merchants are open outside the little building, and Theresa buys herself some more ammo, and buys Deacon a new gun. “Pick any one you want. I’m buying.” Deacon gives her a look, but she’s busy polishing her new weapon. Finally, he picks out a laser pistol, a few cells along with it, and Theresa forks over a few items she’s been holding onto and a few bottle caps along with it. “Thanks, boss.” He says, stuffing his older gun in his pants, earning a small laugh from her, “I hope that thing is on safety.”

  


The location they’re using to send the ‘package’ over is an old church. Theresa had almost missed it - but there it was, with a small lantern painted on it’s side, Deacon asks her what she wants for her plan of attack. She’s silent for a moment, then spots a building with a nice view of the church. “I’d rather not blaspheme in the church... today,” She tells him, before bringing a hand up to point to her vantage point. Deacon turns to look, and smiles, “I’m liking you more and more, Bullseye.” It’s the first time he uses her codename, and Theresa likes the sound of it. It takes them few minutes to climb up to a suitable vantage point, and Theresa pulls out her hunting rifle. It’s only got a small scope on it, but she’s sure she can make due. After a second to focus, she aims her gun, takes a deep breathe and holds it - and pulls the trigger. The sound of the gun rings throughout the Commonwealth, and they can hear the raider who has been shot cries out. A flicker of remorse courses through her before she reloads her weapon. There are only four raiders in the church, she manages to take out three of them, one staying deep within the church’s walls. So she climbs back down, and slips the deliverer between a broken window, taking them out blindly.

  


She feels a little bad, she was raised in a religious house, so taking out people overall, didn’t sit real well, let alone taking out raiders in a church. But she makes quick work, sticking her hands in pockets and reaching for anything useful. “Ah, the time honored act of looting.” Deacon comments, watching her, raised eyebrows over his glasses. Theresa gives him an almost annoyed look, but finds a few stimpaks, and some ammo. “Help me,” She tells Deacon, taking off her rucksack and grabbing an arm and a leg of one dead raider. He’s reluctant at first, but grabs the other arm and leg as they wheel out the dead bodies of the church. They only dropped them a few feet outside the church, making a nice neat pile.

  


“So… what’s with the backpack?” Deacon asks, sitting down in one of the pews. Theresa throws a look over her shoulder, and she sits down on the same pew, leaving some space between them. “It’s a rucksack,” She corrects him, taking it off her back, “It was mine before - ,” she brings a hand up to make a vague gesture. “Why’d you need such a heavy duty backpack?” He asks, resting his arm on the back of the pew. “Rucksack,” She corrects him again, “I was in the army. Before I got here. This is what I carried all my stuff in back then, and it’s what I use now to carry my stuff. Like stimpaks, water, food. All that jazz.” Theresa turns to sit sideways on the pew, in order to keep a close eye on the door. “Well,” she starts again, looking at her Pip-Boy, “ It’s five now. Since we’re getting in the fall, it’ll get darker soon. Within the hour.”

  


“Mmm,” Deacon agrees, looking over his shoulder too, he takes a deep breath, and Theresa can swear that she can almost see his eyes, something she’s wanted to do ever since they met in the dark headquarters. “So. I have a question.” Theresa tells him, scooting in closer on the seat. Deacon watches her move closer, then looks up to look at her face, “Shoot.” She takes a second, “So, everyone in the Railroad has a codename, right?” He nods, “And everyone uses the codenames. Right?” He nods again, “So does that mean that no one in the Railroad knows anyone’s real name?” Deacon stares at her, the edge of his lip threatening to curl upwards, “That’s right. Desdemona isn’t even Desdemona’s real name. Tinker Tom, or Dr. Carrington.” He tells her. Theresa’s eyes narrow at the thought, and she stares at him hard. Deacon shifts in his seat, picking at the pew with his fingers. She wonders if that’s the truth. “Deacon?” Theresa calls for his attention again, “Why do you wear your sunglasses all the time?”

  


This time he smiles for real, and raises his eyebrows, “That’s to keep the people guessing. Remember when I told you I get a face swap every now and then?” This time it’s Theresa that nods, “Well, I don’t swap my eyes. They’re one of my...better features,” He doesn’t say his best feature, and Theresa huffs in laughter. “But I can’t keep the same face for all my life. I’d be too recognizable! Everyone in the ‘Wealth would want to come see this handsome mug.” This time she laughs, but rolls her eyes along with it. It was going to a long few hours. 

*

“Maybe I should do that,” Theresa suddenly states, breaking the silence and almost startling Deacon. He looks over, his vision failing in the fading light and the sunglasses. “Change my face.” She continues without his comment. It would be a waste, he thinks, and she continues, “This,” Reese - Bullseye points to her long jagged scar on her cheek, “Isn’t exactly subtle.” He wants to know what’s happened, desperately, wants to know what caused that scar to mar her face. Was it a domestic fight? Did she get it in the army? Or was it a childhood event? Bullseye hums, resting her head on her hand, “Perhaps I’ll cover my face. Like a gunner.” He shrugs, thinking about it, “It’s far less permanent commitment than a full face swap. So, it’s an idea.” Bullseye is silent for a second, before agreeing with him, “Perhaps.” Suddenly a pair of footsteps are heard, and Bullseye quickly stands up, grabbing her rifle from her sack. “Don’t shoot,” Deacon whispers to her, and she realizes that it’s Old Man Stockton, and his… package. “Everything looks clear,” The old man doesn’t give her a chance to strangle out an apology. “This is H2-22. H2, this is who I was telling you about.”

“Hello.” She greets quietly. “The institute doesn’t bother to name their property. Synths are just numbers and letters to them,” The old man says bitterly, “I’ll fire up the signal.” Bullseye’s gaze turns to the synth, Deacon right behind her, as the old man goes to fire the lantern in the window. “Alright. It’s time for me to leave. Keep H2 safe. Someone will be here soon.” and with that he walks out. She’s silent for a moment, but then decides that he’s probably a nervous wreck, “hey, H2.” Bullseye starts, “From what I was told - it’s probably safer if I don’t say anything.” She makes a face like she’s surprised he was told that, but understands that safety is the biggest matter. Deacon leans against a pew, watching both the synth and Bullseye, wondering what she thinks of the gen 3s, the ones that look so much like them it was scary. But she doesn’t say anything - she doesn’t move from her spot, stands completely still. It takes only mere minutes before the sound of footsteps can be heard. Suddenly, she reaches for her gun holstered to point at someone Deacon knows. “Easy there,” She warns, and Highrise brings his hands up in surrender.

  


“Don’t shoot!” He calls, “Bullseye, right? Yeah, I can see why they named you that. Should’ve been Quickdraw. My man,” He gestures to Deacon, who stays in his spot on the pew, “Deacon. Still with the same face? It’s been four whole months. You starting to slack.” Deacon laughs, “I keep meaning to go to the face doctor - but who has the time, y’know?” Then Highrise’s attention is back on Bullseye, “I heard about you. I heard about the freedom trail, then the Switchboard. Glad to have you on the team.” Bullseye seems uneasy for a moment, her gun lowered, but her grip still tight, “Are you… here for the package?” She asks, keeping a careful eye on him. “Yeah.” Is all Highrise tells her, before moving to H2, “You okay?” H2’s voice comes out soft, “A little rattled, but...I’m okay.” Highrise smiles in the darkness, “Alright H2, you’ll need a new name, and a new face, but we’ll get to that once we get you out of here.” Deacon pushes himself off the pew, and grabs Bullseye’s sack for her, “Oh, there are some more raiders ahead of us. We might need a little help.” Highrise tells her, “I’ll lead the way,” He pulls out his own pipe pistol and makes his way out of the church. Bullseye turns to go for her sack, but Deacon’s already there behind her to give it to her. She only gives a small nod in thanks before slipping it on and taking her rifle in hand.

  


They only travel a mile before they reach raiders, but with the three of them (not counting H2) they’re taken out almost effortlessly. But they are not made of steel, and Deacon suffers from a gunshot wound. He brushes it off, ignoring the pain and keeps moving, attempting to avoid the main problem - the super mutants. “Time to earn my pay check,” He states, just low enough for Bullseye to hear him. “I’m getting paid, right?” To which Bullseye snorts out a laugh. Even in the middle of fighting he still had time to make her laugh, that was good. The super mutants skulk about, attracted by the sound of gunfire and there were a few raiders that linger farther off, Bullseye uses her small scope to her advantage, picking them off like it was nothing. “You good, H2?” Highrise calls and H2 only squeaks out a small, “Yes.” before they keep moving. They’ve got to be quiet, Deacon would really rather not fight super mutants tonight, but Bullseye seems to be under the same impression. Highrise runs ahead of them, but the three remain crouched, running as fast as they could as to avoid the mutants that were holed up nearby. There’s a spotlight that finds them, but Bullseye quickly takes it out. “We’re almost there,” Highrise informs them, nearly running to the bridge. Deacon lingers behind, the gunshot wound in his shoulder screaming in pain. Breathless, and shot, the group manages to make it to their destination - Ticonderoga safe house. “We’re here. All in a night’s work for you agent types, huh?” Highrise asks Bullseye, and Bullseye looks to Deacon. “Does this happen often?” She asks, “More than I’d like. Most times I can do it by myself, but others… it’s like the raiders are holding conventions.” Highrise gives out a humorless laugh, but Bullseye doesn’t reciprocate it. “If you ever need food, bullets, or just a quick power nap, you just take that elevator to Ticon. My house - is your’s.” Bullseye nods again, then Highrise moves his gaze, “Oh, and Deacon?” 

Deacon’s sight moves up, “Hmm?” 

 

“Try not to give the rookie too much shit.” Highrise teases, and Deacon laughs. “Deacon may be a terrible liar, but it pays to have him on your side. Later.” With that, he leaves, H2 in tow. Bullseye doesn’t move for a second, as if she’s trying to comprehend what just happened. “Do you want to stay here? For the night?” She asks, turning to look at him. “Hmm? We can.” He shrugs and Bullseye huffs, “It’s not how I usually do things - but. At least we know it’s safe.” Deacon looks up from Bullseye’s gaze to the building and nods, “Sure thing, boss.” They make their way into the building, Bullseye’s finger pressing the button tirelessly. The elevator takes it’s time, and shakes when coming down, rattling without apology. The light in the elevator flickers, barely giving on any light, but she walks in anyways. Deacon is a little reluctant at first, and Bullseye must get tired of waiting for him, “Well? Are you coming in or not?” She leans against the back wall, and appears to be leaning her weight off of one leg. Deacon walks in, and presses the button to take them to safety, leaning against the wall adjacent to her. Silence falls over them and the elevator begins to rattle up. Suddenly, Bullseye gasps and it startles Deacon, 

“Deacon, you’re bleeding!”


	7. Baby, kick the wall out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bullseye and Deacon recuperate at Ticon

And suddenly, there’s a bright light and nearly blinds him. Part of him thinks that he’s dying, but he quickly realizes that it’s just the flashlight from her Pip-Boy. A pink glow emits from her arm, and she brings a hand up to flatten his shirt against his skin. He winces, both from the pain and from being touched, “It’s fine, I’ve been shot before. I can sew m’self up.with a laugh, but he’s thinking about how he can’t play his ‘synth deacon’ joke anymore. Or perhaps he can. Maybe Bullseye doesn’t know that synths don’t bleed.  


“Don’t be an idiot,” She chastises him, but takes her hands away, “We’ll get you cleaned up inside.” Deacon grumbles, and Bullseye scoffs at his reaction, pulling him out of the elevator by his shirt. She takes him to the first person she sees, her grip like death on the shirt, “We need a first aid kit. Or a doctor, if you have one.” She tells the agent. The woman looks at Theresa, who is a little banged up, scraped on her face and has a bruise forming on her cheek from her fight with the raiders, but is fine. “It’s not me, it’s my partner.” She explains, pointing to the blood that is now seeping out of Deacon’s shirt. “Oh, of course, we have a doctor here on site. I’ll take you to him.” The agent holds her hand out to escort Deacon, who walks slowly, much like a child. Theresa walks behind him, and once they get to the first aid room she’s stopped. 

“Are you injured?” The doctor asks Theresa, and she shakes her head. “Then you have to stay out. Doctor/Patient confidentiality.” He turns to usher Deacon in, who hesitates before walking in. “Doc, look, my boss is just worried about me. I’m fine,” He starts, before the doctor shushes him. “You’ll have to take your shirt off. Unless you want me to cut it.” The doctor explains, and Theresa takes this as her cue to walk away, 

The doctor keeps Deacon for longer than Theresa was expecting, and she was left to her own devices for what seems like hours. She manages to get a room to herself takes this time to tend to her three day old wound on her leg. Theresa rolls up the loose fabric, and hisses at the pain that is left there, a completely soaked bloodied bandage. _Fuck_ , she thinks, before carefully unraveling the gauze there. She had forgotten to change her dressings. Once her leg had been exposed the cool air it stings more, and the sole survivor grimace at the pain. She rummaged through her rucksack to get her hands on a stimpak, and takes a moment to buck up the courage to actually stick herself. With careful hands, Theresa extends her leg and injects the medicine inches from her wound. She yelps at the pain, and is seemingly frozen until someone knocks on her door. It alerts her, and her hand goes straight to her gun strapped to her outer thigh, before she stands up. “Yes?” She calls out, before opening the door.  


There stands Deacon, bloodied white tee shirt rumpled in his hands, with a button down cream shirt on as it’s replacement. “See?” he asks, eyebrows rising over his sunglasses as some sort of sarcastic expression. “Totally fine.” Deacon finishes raising his hand to show the bloodied shirt. Concern washes over him (or what Theresa can see)once he sees her exposed leg and bloodied wound, “Switchboard.” Is all Theresa says before giving him an unimpressed look and she rolls her eyes, but Theresa moves out of the way so Deacon can walk in. 

“Everything alright?” She asks quietly. He shrugs, noncommittally, and Theresa assumes that’s the best she’s going to get out of him tonight. “I talked to the people downstairs. They said this is the only room they’ve got left. You took the last bed.” he spurts out. That’s when the sole survivor feels a wash of guilt, “I’m sorry. Uh --,” she moves some of her stuff off the bed, including her ginormous pip-boy, “you can have the bed.” Theresa points to it, like the thinned out cot was something well coveted. “No, no, you don’t have to do that.” He tells her, waving around the bloodied shirt has emphasis, “totally cool with sleeping on the ground.” 

That’s when she becomes flustered, “Deacon, really, take the bed.” 

“No, boss, really. Seriously. Keep it.” 

“Deacon,” her voice lowers, seriousness lacing through it, “Take. The. Bed.” Something changes in the spy’s face, and he turns silent. This carries on for a minute before Theresa finally gives up, “Fine! At least take my extra sleeping bag,” She tells him before reaching in her rucksack, and pulling out one of her sleeping bags. She would’ve kept it as extra cushion to support her back - something she’s had to find extra support after her days in the army, but she can’t stand the thought of Deacon just sleeping on the group without even that. Deacon’s stony expression stays on his face for a millisecond longer before it breaks out into a smile, causing Theresa to fight a smile on her own. The sole survivor throws the bag at the him with the best amount of force she can muster at this point. “Go to bed, Deacon.” 

 

What Bullseye doesn’t know is that Deacon doesn’t really sleep while he’s out in the field. Especially not with a new partner. He busies himself with placing his sleeping bag and trying to make it look like he’s going to sleep at all. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Theresa untie her boots - those boots that looked like they were too big for her. Had those been Kellogg’s? Was that rumor even true? Sure, Deacon was a good spy, but he couldn’t follow her every place she went. Like the gen 1 minefield that _was_ Fort Hagen, he just gives her props coming out of that building in one piece. Something in him tells him not to ask about it, though. There’s something about her that tells him that even though he wants to dig in and figure out her entire life story, wants to figure out why she (if she did) killed Kellogg and all of the gen ones he had with him. Everything was intriguing about her and something told Deacon, that even him, the king of lying, was allowed to ask for the truth. What was she like before? He desperately wanted to probe into her past - but maybe it was his own inability to tell the truth that was telling him not to ask her about herself. He knows he wouldn’t want to talk about his past life. 

There’s only one single bulb that hangs in their room, and Bullseye takes off her jacket to reveal a white tee shirt that definitely was not her’s to begin with because she had it cut and knotted at the back to help tighten it. He looks away when she begins to wrap her exposed wound, gently wrapping gauze over her tanned thigh. Soon after her jacket comes off and she places it over her shoes and leans on her elbows on the cot with a sigh. “Deacon?” she calls out, and Deacon’s ears perk up. He hopes that she hasn’t noticed that he’s been staring slightly for the past five minutes. “Can you turn out the light when you’re done?” Bullseye asks, facing him for a split second before laying down completely. He doesn’t respond for a moment, staring from behind his glasses at her jagged scar again.  
“Deacon?” 

“Oh - yeah, boss. Sure thing.” The spy removes his shoes, then moves over to turn the light. In the dark, he’ll be able to take off his sunglasses - however he’s not too sure he’s going to take that chance tonight. Bullseye folds her arms under her head to support her head more than the thinned out pillow she was given. Deacon pulls the string for the light, and the safehouse goes pitch black. 

He usually doesn’t fall asleep. No, scratch that. He never falls asleep while in the field. He doesn’t even realize that he’s fallen asleep until he hears Bullseye getting up from her cot. Deacon nearly panics because it’s bright. He scrambles for his sunglasses, his only shield, and they’re gone. There’s a sound, but Deacon hasn’t turned around, so he can’t see what’s going on. From what he can hear, it sounds like Bullseye laying back down. The spy finally finds his sunglasses, they’re on lying on his shoes haphazardly, like they had been thrown. He puts them on his face, and discovers they’re crooked. Great. He had broken them. Deacon looks over at Bullseye, ready more or less to greet the day but stops when he lays eyes on her.  


Her hair has either fallen out of the holder she had it back in, or she had taken it out before she went to sleep, because now it was disheveled and covered half of her face. Some parts of it was matted and others looked so perfect it should’ve been in a pre-war ad.. If she had gotten up this morning, it was apparent that she was hellbent on going back to sleep. Missions can do that to people. 

It was apparent that Theresa, was not a morning person. It happens all the time with Nick, she’s unable to get up at early morning hours on her own. In a way he was like her alarm clock, forcing her to get up from his chestplate and out of his protective embrace. But her shoulders ached from the cot, and her back hurt even more than that - and it was evident that she had not had a good night’s sleep. When she’s in this condition - she doesn’t want to go anywhere. “Morning, boss.” Deacon’s voice rings in, and Theresa groans, a hand brushing over her face in order to shield her eyes from the sunlight that was pouring from the window. Theresa cracks open one eye, and immediately closes it from the brightness.  


Deacon chuckles softly, leaning up on his hands, and then slowly getting up. Joints crack and his muscles ache - but it’s better than being dead. The spy reaches upwards, making parts of his spine crack too, and stretches out his core muscles. “C’mon boss. Dez is gonna want to talk to you about our first run together.” His tone is soft, and Bullseye still does not move.  
“Well, I’m gonna - I’m gonna go downstairs, see if they have anything good to eat for breakfast.” 

Theresa groans in response, but doesn’t open her eyes again until she hears the door close. Her body aches from their mission, but she forces herself upwards, despite the pain from her shoulder and the wound in her thigh. She cracks her neck, and rolls up her pants to check on her gunshot wound. She only changes the dressings and begins to get ready. Her hair is dirty, so she throws it up in a messy bun, and throws the rest of her stuff back in her rucksack, even Deacon’s sleeping bag.  


She’s slow to come downstairs but there’s lots of chattering that coaxes her to come out and socialize. Theresa takes slow, careful steps, carrying her rucksack when she sees the rest of the railroad agents crowded in one area. “Boss!” She hears someone call out, and her brown eyes search the crowd for the spy.  
“Bullseye! Over here!” Deacon’s waving her over at a table, glasses askew, smiling broadly at her. Theresa takes her time walking over to the spy, before sitting down in front of him, “What is this?” she asked, eyeing the meal on the plate that she assumed was an omelette. “Bullseye, someone was able to find a deathclaw eggs - they brought it here to share. Deathclaw omelets for everyone!” A few people cheered when he called out, but many were too preoccupied eating the breakfast. Theresa looks around, watching others nearly devour the egg like they were gold. Her brows furrow and she looks back down at her own breakfast. It looked like a regular omelette, there was no real green tint to it, it looks like something Codsworth would’ve made her back in 2077. Deacon was digging into his, eating loudly and quickly, making Theresa wonder if it were really that good.  


Her first bite was not what she expected. The taste was different than a real egg, obviously, and it was softer to chew. After a few bites, Theresa decided that it was good enough to finish, and quickly ate her breakfast. “Thanks” She whispers to Deacon, wrapping a hand around her rucksack, “But we better get moving.” Deacon nods, grabbing the gun that Bullseye bought for him and standing up. She’s slow to get up, gently putting weight on her leg before deciding that it was well enough to walk on for right now. “Dez is gonna wanna talk to us. You, more specifically.” He tells her, watching her struggle with her bag, “You need help?” But Theresa only brushes him off, determined to do this on her own. 

“We have to go back right now?” 

This question stuns Deacon, and he brings a hand upwards to point at nothing in particular, like he was at a loss of words. “Good,” She starts before he can find the words he’s looking for, “Because I’ve got a settlement I’ve got to check on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of short, to which i apologize, but thanks for reading and for kudos! This story really has me stuck, I find myself wanting to write it at really inopportune times. hope yall enjoy
> 
> I've got another settlement that needs your help


	8. Crawl out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You gotta do paperwork for every railroad mission. Filler chapter.

The groan that comes out of Deacon can probably be heard throughout the commonwealth. “A settlement?” He whines, “Dez is gonna want us back today.” But Bullseye just waves her hand, taking slow steps, “Calm down, it’s only going to take a few minutes.” But Deacon throws his head back dramatically, groaning again. “Deacon!” Bullseye turns around and gives him a warning look. But it doesn’t have to last long because he knows being this loud while they’re walking around wasn’t a good idea. But he can just hear Preston Garvey talking about all of his goddamn settlements, it was bad enough they had a radio stations now. “Where is this settlement anyway?” He asks, looking around. “Country crossing. Not too far from here.” She replied, taking her bat out in preparation. This is when Deacon decides to keep his mouth shut and hope nothing bad pops up and kills them. 

After a few minutes, there’s a hum in the air. Bullseye hears it, and ducks behind an abandoned car, leaving Deacon to search the sky cautiously. Next thing he feels is her skinny fingers knotting themselves in his shirt and pulling him down with her. “Watch it!” He warns about his shirt, but all she does is press her index finger to her scarred lip. His eyes stay frozen in place behind broken glasses, even when she turns to look up at the sky to find the sound. It gets louder, and that’s when Deacon can find it in himself to tear his gaze from her face to look upwards too. Fuck. It was the fucking Brotherhood of Steel. And one of those vertibirds they fly around the commonwealth like they’re the law of the land. And the Railroad’s natural enemy. “What the fuck is that?” She whispered, keeping her eyes on the machinery. “Brotherhood of steel. Want to kill everything that isn’t human. Including synths.” He says, venom lacing his tone. But then the vertibird is landing, and knights in power armor jumping from the height. 

“We gotta go,” Deacon warns, beginning to stand up, nudging her foot with his. Bullseye stays in his place, as if fear has paralyzed her. “Bullseye - we gotta go.” he says a little hurriedly this time, panic running through his veins. Still, she doesn’t move at all. Deacon’s breath speeds up and he’s forced to grab her by the arm and pull her up. Bullseye is dead weight, her bat adding to it, not helping him at all. “Bullseye, we have to get out of here, trust me. You do not want to mess with these guys right now.” And somehow she’s found the way to make her feet move, her legs attempting to fold themselves in while she’s trying to make herself walk. Deacon’s rushing her more, trying to find a secure building to hide from the Brotherhood of steel. “Bullseye, please, c’mon.” He’s practically begging, pushing her into an abandoned building. Panic rushes over him, and he forces her to stay still once they’re inside. 

The suits can be heard running through the grass, and Deacon moves to peak from behind the wall to see how far away they’ve gone. He breathes a small breath of relief when he sees them going the opposite way. He pushes his broken glasses further up the bridge of his nose and turns to look at Bullseye. She’s got her hands on her knees, doubled over, her breathing ragged. Had she not seen a vertibird before? Surely this couldn’t have been the first time she had run into the Brotherhood of steel. “S-Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She mutters before taking a shaky breath. Deacon knows better than to pry as to what’s happened to her, he stands there for a moment longer before moving out from behind the wall to peek and see if the cost is clear. 

“C’mon,” Her voice rings out, surprising him on how quickly she recovered. 

“Let’s go.” 

*** 

Talking to the settlers took almost an hour and a half, and no matter how much Deacon wanted to get back to base to talk to Dez, he couldn’t help but admire the way she was with her settlers. It was like she really was listening to their problems, like she really cared about these people that she didn’t know at all. There wasn’t that many people like that in the Commonwealth nowadays - and Bullseye seemed to have enough for everyone who lacked it. Even when it was very miniscule troubles the settlers were having (like building a water purifier instead of just keeping their two water pumps) She didn’t scoff, she didn’t brush them off - Bullseye didn’t even bat an eye. This is where Deacon realizes - she belongs in the Railroad. 

“Okay,” She brushes her hands off, looking at her handiwork of the new water purifier at the nearest lake. “You need to protect this, make sure that it’s not being tampered with. And make sure to check the pH balance every time you go to get a drink of water. Look,” she points to a meter with red and green lines, “Make sure that the green, is always higher than the red. Okay? If you have any trouble, and you simply cannot fix it, call me okay? I’ll come and see what the problem is.” The settlers thank her, and offer two hands to shake hers, which she takes with a smile. Deacon wonders if they realize that they’re sending a message with this handshake, and he wonders if Bullseye catches it. “Just radio into Sanctuary, and I’ll be here.” She smiles again before turning away to face Deacon. 

“Goodbye General!” 

She turns and waves to the settlers before jerking her head to the side to indicate for Deacon to follow her. “Alright, now we can go back to HQ.” She brushes her hands on her pants, her limp becoming less significant now. “We should get you checked out by Carrington once we get there.” Deacon suggests, looking over his shoulders. Bullseye only hums, in what he assumes is agreement and keeps walking. Bullseye brings up her Pip-Boy and looks for her map, “Shouldn’t be too long,” She starts, “Maybe about thirty minutes to get there. If all goes well.” She brings her arm back down and lets her hand fall to her gun on her thigh. 

It takes them a little over forty-five minutes, they only have a run in with a few boat flies and a dead brahmin. Once they get to headquarters, Theresa keeps her head down, ignoring the large organ at the back of the building and makes a beeline for the catacombs. A chill runs through her once she reaches there and she’s almost certain that Deacon can feel her stiffen. “Putting H.Q in the catacombs was Glory’s idea.” Deacon tells her, kicking a dead ghoul’s foot, and only jumping back slightly. Theresa shakes her head, and walks as fast as her injured leg will let her. She’s silent for the rest of the way, and Deacon worries if he’s said something to her that’s offended her. He wonders if she’s mad when he pushed her into an abandoned building when the brotherhood. 

Bullseye heads for Desdemona, but stops short when she comes to the circle in the center of headquarters, but she only points in the opposite direction - at Doctor Carrington. Bullseye does an about face and limps towards the doctor before plopping into a nearby seat. Dez motions Deacon over, and he groans a little before practically forcing himself towards her. “Yeah?” He asks, and Dez speaks in a hushed voice, “What do you think? How did she do?” Deacon looks over at Bullseye, now seeming to get looked over by the doc, before looking back at Dez. “She knows what she’s doing.” Is all he tells her. “What took you so long to come back? Dr. Carrington got word from Highrise yesterday.” 

“We ran into some complications.” 

That seems to satisfy Dez and she tilts her head up at Bullseye, her pant leg up bunched up yet again, giving Deacon the chance to see that tanned skin again that made him want to blush and look away. He could only do one of those things. “Perhaps you should take a break,” Carrington tells Bullseye, “We don’t need our newest agent to go out there and get herself killed just because she wasn’t ready to fight again.” Deacon knows this is the doc’s way of trying to be caring, but it comes out harsh and almost like he didn’t want the new recruit to begin with. “I agree,” Dez stepped in, “If things continue to progress like they are with you, I don’t want to risk it. Carrington, how much time does she need?” 

“Two more days, if she regularly changes her bandages, keeps them clean and takes a stimpak. I’ve already given her a med-x for the pain.” 

“You heard him, Bullseye. You can stay here at H.Q. while you’re getting treated.” 

“Thanks, mom.” Sarcasm drips from Bullseye’s voice before she pushes her pant leg down, and hoists herself up. “Whatever happened to doctor/patient confidentiality?” It was clear, to Carrington, Dez and Deacon that Bullseye was unhappy about something. She trudges off to the bundle of mattress lying on the ground and asks Tracker, if she can lay down anywhere. He tells her yes and she all but drops her rucksack and falls into the sleeping bag. Carrington shrugs off her attitude and busies himself again, Dez stares for a moment and wonders if she wants to hold that personally against Bullseye. 

They break off, and Deacon is left to his own devices, standing awkwardly in the middle of H.Q. before deciding to make his way to his sleeping bag behind the wall. He of all people knows that you should leave people alone when they’re upset. But he can’t help but wonder what came over her, wondering if this means that she won’t want to travel with him anymore. 

“Deacon!” 

He flinches when his name rings out above all the noise in H.Q., “You’ve got paperwork to finish from Switchboard. PAM is gonna want it, today!” Dez lectures him like a child, and Deacon throws a dirty look from behind his broken sunglasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's summa time! which means i can finally sit down and write this story!! Theresa is dying to get back to Nick Valentine, and although i desperately wanted to write their reunion after a few days in this chapter, I couldn't! she is being very particular today. Hope y'all like it.


	9. Drop that bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settlement life was boring without her.

Life in a settlement seemed so dull without her. Nick Valentine sat in her bed - their bed, tinkering with this robotic hand. Reese would yell at him, and tell her to go talk to Sturges instead of accidentally snapping his wrist off. But he couldn’t help it, he was bored without her. Sure, the settlers at Sanctuary were nice enough to him, that doesn’t mean they were dying to invite him to dinner. And Nick could understand that, especially with interference with the Institute was starting to rise again. He wasn’t one to push past their comfort zone, because this was their home first, he was only visiting. Sunlight poured in the small cracks and holes left in the bedroom walls, one panel still missing. “Mr. Valentine?” Preston’s voice rang through Reese’s house, and Nick pushes himself off the bed and walks into the hallway, still fidgeting with his wrist socket. “What can I do you for, Preston?” The Minuteman was standing in the doorway swaying side to side, his laser musket pointing downwards. “And how many times to I have to tell you to call me Nick?” Preston smiled shyly and shrugged his shoulders, “Probably one more time Mr. Valentine.” Which only make Nick chuckle. “What do you need?”

“It’s the General, sir.” 

That made Nick’s motor go into quick time, “What about the General?” And Preston brought his hand up to stop Nick from overreacting, “Oh, it’s just - the General is on her way. She radioed in from a settlement. She requested that you meet her at Red Rocket.” And Nick thinks that he can see a flash of jealousy fly over Preston’s face, but it’s gone as soon as it’s there. The synth only smiles and nods his head at the minuteman, who moves out of the doorway for him to get by. Although security doesn’t really matter in the nuclear wasteland, Nick still grabs the doorknob and closes the front door.  He passes settlers, some who give him a smile, and others who just glare as he passes by. The Vault Tec representative that they had run into in Goodneighbor stood at a guard post, 10mm pistol in his hands. “Valentine,” He nods his head towards the detective with a small smile. Nick brings his hand up to tip his hat, before picking up speed over the broken bridge. Would she be alone? Would she have brought Deacon back with her? His motor is running mad, and he can feel his circuits begin to whir. It’s been four weeks since she’s been back, since he told her that it was fine. He’ll just - go back to Sanctuary. The loneliness he’s felt for the past four weeks as all but bitch slapped him for dismissing himself so easily. He sees the lights she’s put up at Red Rocket, followed by the large fence she’s built to protect it. The turrets that were set up by the gate notice him, and pause only for a moment before resuming their patrol. Nick pulls on the doors of the large gates, letting them fly open. 

 

“Nicky!” 

 

Nick smiles at the mention of his nickname, and watches her walk slowly towards him. Worry comes across, why wasn’t she running? Had she been hurt? Was it bad? Nick picks up his speed, meeting her halfway, scooping her up once she’s within arms length. Reese laughs, lightly, kissing whatever synthetic skin she could find with her lips. Nick laughs along with her, bringing his fully covered hand up to find her hair, falling from her ponytail. Their laughter dies down and that’s when Nick gets a good look at her face. She had a few bruises and cuts on her high cheek bones, decorating her skin more along with her jagged scar. Reese only smiles shyly at him, and Nick attempts to mirror it. The synth closes the distance between the two again and kisses her, setting her down on her feet simultaneously. “I missed you,” Reese whispers when they break apart. “This ol’ synth?” Nick asks her, leaning back down to capture another kiss. Reese doesn’t pull away, only grabs onto the detective's lapels, to pull him closer. Nick makes a noise that Reese is certain is a growl and it makes her laugh lightly, “Nicky,” Reese starts, and Nick breaks away from her with a smile on his face, “What is it, doll?” Reese feels her cheeks begin to burn and shy smile coming over her as she looks over her shoulder, meeting another pair of eyes. “Not in front of Dogmeat.” she chastises Nick. Dogmeat barks playfully, before jogging up to the pair and jumping on Nick’s chest. “Ooh!” Nick grunts when he puts his two paws on his chest panel, but smiles affectionately at the dog, “I was wondering where’d you run off to, Dogmeat.” Dogmeat barks again, before jumping back down and turning to Reese. 

 “Hi baby!” She coos, “Oh, my goodness I haven’t seen you in forever! Did you miss me?” Reese asks, bending down pet him. The dog licks at her face and the sole survivor laughs loudly, like this is the first good thing that’s happened to her since she left. There’s a noise behind the two, and it grabs both Dogmeat’s and Nick’s attention. “Another party I wasn’t invited to? What gives?” Deacon’s voice rings out, dressed in Diamond City Security armor. Nick’s smile slowly dissipates. _She had brought him with her_. Dogmeat barks, and runs full speed at Deacon, nearly knocking him over when he jumped on him, “Mr. Dogmeat I presume? It’s so nice to finally meet you.” the spy tells him, bringing a hand up to scratch behind the dog’s ear. Reese let’s out a few more laughs, tired this time, before reaching her hand up the detective. Nick reaches down with his skeleton hand and pulls her up, noticing her wince when he does so.

 

Deacon’s voice can probably be heard to Sanctuary he’s talking so loud to the dog, and Nick whispers to Reese, “Are you okay?” She realizes that he’s trying to have a private conversation with her, and she only nods her head. “It’s the shot from Kellogg.” Reese whispers back, shifting on her leg. “Let me see,” He tells her, worry weaving through his voice box. But Theresa shakes her head and pulls away from Nick, “It’s nothing. Just a little sore.” A serious look comes over and Nick let’s it go. He knows better, even though they’ve only worked together -- been together for a couple of months, than to keep pressing on an issue. Nick feels something in his system that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Maybe since Jenny. He can’t place it, and tries to distract himself with picking at a screw in his exposed wrist. “Got everything?” Reese asks Deacon, and he nods, pointing to a bag of junk that Nick knows not even Reese has any use for.

 

“What’s all that?” Nick asks, a suspicious look etching over his synthetic features. “I’m gonna sell them to Trashcan Carla. See if I can get a shipment of something. But I wanted to ask you, Nicky, you’ve been my man on the ground - how’s sanctuary? Seriously. Preston won’t tell me what’s wrong and what isn’t.” And Nick finally realizes what that strange feeling in his soul is. It’s jealousy. She didn’t come back for him. She came back for the settlement. The synth clenches his teeth together, and looks down. “We’re needing another water pump. Marcy’s getting irritated that she has to wait for Mama Murphy to pump her own water before she can.” Reese nods slowly, trying to think of all the thing she’s going to need to make it. “Looks like we’re gonna be here a while,” she turns to Deacon behind her, “You can stay at Red Rocket if you’d like. Piper usually stays here with Dogmeat. There’s two beds here. Or you can stay in Sanctuary if you want.”  

Part of Nick wants him to say no and go back to the Old North church. But it seems that nothing is going Nick’s way today because Deacon nods his head, “If you don’t mind, seems like Carla likes to operate in your settlement. I’ll, uh, head there.” Reese watches him as he hauls up the bag full of junk with ease and walks out the gates of the guarded gas station. She must be able to feel the tension - hell, he was sure even Deacon could feel the tension between them. And the sole survivor speaks first. “I did miss you.” It’s soft and Nick nearly misses it, looking away from the open gates. “That why you brought him along?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice when he says it, but doesn’t register any sort of hurt across her features. “ Nicky, don’t be like that. You know I need to have a partner.” Nick wants to inform her that when he was her partner, that’s when they developed feelings for each other. “I want to take you with me, but. I can’t run that risk. I want to keep you safe.” 

 

“And what about me? I have to stay here and worry if _I Spy_ over there keeps you safe?” 

 

Reese sighs, “You need to trust me.” 

 

“And I need you to be honest with me, doll.” the detective brings his hands up to her shoulders, gold eyes boring into her face, “Is there something I need to know about?” It’s a serious question, and he sees Theresa visibly swallow. “What if there was? I’m not saying there is. I’m just, saying. What if there was?” 

Nick’s eyes fall to the ground again and he contemplates over what she just said to him. He doesn’t want to lose this, the beginning of something great, over simple jealous. But Nick has never done something like this in his entire life. “Nicky?” she brings a gloved hand up to his chin, forcing him to look back up in those dark brown eyes. “I don’t want to lose this.” Is all he says, and Theresa gives a ghost of a smile, “I don’t either. But, I can guarantee you right now, there’s nothing there. You need to trust me. Trust that I will always tell you the truth.” The detective’s eyes scan her’s for any sign of deception, but he can’t find any. Silence falls over them and Nick smiles down at her, wordlessly. 

The synth leans down, and presses his lips against her’s in a gentle kiss. He wants to convey everything he can’t seem to find the words for, in this kiss. Her lips move slowly against his, a small hand snaking up to the exposed side of his neck. Reese’s callused fingers slip, catching against the wires that reside there, earning a loud, wanting groan from Nick. He feels a strange sensation in his lower region, that’s not unwelcome. Nick assumes that what he is feeling is part of a human’s id. Their more… primal instincts. This seems to go unnoticed by Theresa, and Nick feels embarrassed about it. Part of him is afraid that what he is feeling is unreciprocated. But it has to be, doesn’t it? That’s why he finds her pressed against his chest plate, one hand scratching at the fabric it finds there. Before he can do anything about this ache on his pelvic plate, however, there’s a snap! Somewhere near by, and Reese freezes. Despite the guard towers, the three machine gun turrets and tesla traps she had rigged around the gas station, she was still on her toes. Nick pulls away, untangling her fingers from his coat, and walks over one of the towers that was unmanned. 

The brave soul walks upright, rigid as he takes his place as a guard, scanning the grounds in front of the little settlement for any signs of threats. Brown eyes watch from behind, silent, a hand on her pistol. With Deacon gone, she finds that this is the perfect time to talk to Nick about her plan. The synth turns around with a shake of his head, “Nothin’ out there, sweetheart. Just a radstag, looking for it’s momma.” he reassures her, walking down the wooden steps towards her, a small smile beginning to form. “Now, where were we?” But Theresa brings a hand up slightly to stop him, “Nicky, I need to tell you something real important." 

 

** 

 

He’s more careful about this. He usually is anyway, he only gets caught every other five times he’s out. But it’s more than curiosity that comes over the spy and he’s aching to find out more about her. He hadn’t even taken the junk to Carla yet, just hid it in some bushes near by. Working with her, day and night was proving to be more difficult with him. He saw Bullseye at her worst, injured, angry, dirty. Deacon longed to see what she was like when she was at ease. With someone to love. He had thought about it during one of the dead drops. He watched her take her time, tip toeing through debris and dried leaves. Watched her wash her face when they came across a settlement. Bullseye was fascinating, yet unwilling to let Deacon catch her with her guard down ( so _that’s_ what that felt like ) 

So he sees this as his prime moment. The tension between Bullseye and Nick was tangible, especially what Deacon saw. At first he thought it was because he invaded her gas station. But the way that Nick had looked at her, read a different situation. Deacon all but had his nose pressed against the wood on the right side of the fence she had built, allowing him a profile view of what was going on. He can’'t help but feel the irritation when he hears Nick call him ‘I spy’. It wasn’t even that _good_ insult. He was almost insulted at the fact that it wasn't even a good _insult_.  But his breath hitches when he sees Nick lean down and presses his synthetic lips against her’s. So they were an item. Trailing them for months had proved nothing until this very moment. He feels something in himself that he hasn’t quite felt in a long time. Not since her. Deacon’s heart rate seems to pick up and his breathing quickens. 

The spy wants to look away from her, from them. From this. But watching Nick move the way he was, the way she moved around him. Lithe, quick, with intention. God, Deacon wanted to know what that body felt like. There’s a snap! Behind him, scares the living shit out of him. The spy is quick to turn around, gun drawn, finger on the trigger - ready to kill. There, stood a two headed radstag doe. Deacon had felt like he had been caught with his pants down, his back against the junk fence built around the gas station. The doe stood motionless, perhaps paralyzed in fear, but the spy only lowered his weapon.  He tries to regain his breathing when he hears heavy footsteps against the wood behind him, panic running through him. 

His fingers fumble, and he uses the only thing he can think of in order to not get caught. Using a railroad stealth boy wasn’t the best choice, Dez would disapprove that he didn’t use it when he needed to, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He pushes the little red button and watches his own hand go invisible. Sunglasses look up to see the synth standing above him, hat askew, but otherwise completely composed. He waits until Nick walks back down the stairs and he hears Bullseye whisper something to Nick. But Deacon knew when it was time to back down, and slowly picks up the bag of junk that she’s having him carry to Sanctuary and slowly paces down to the settlement. 

 

That was a close one. 

 

**

“What’s on your mind doll?” Nick asks, letting her grab his exposed hand and take him inside the gas station. Reese leads him into the garage, letting go of his hand to turn on the radio. Billie Holiday begins to play, but Reese is still silent. Nick watches, standing from the power armor station, as she walks over to the garage door opener. Her small, gloved hand presses the big red button on the wall, and the door closes slowly. She moves over to the door they just came through, pressing the close button and waiting for it to close completely before she starts. “Do you remember when we went to go see Amari?” Is how she starts, and Nick’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. That was almost a month ago. He only nods, allowing her to continue. “And, you remember how Amari unplugged you before she unplugged me?” Again, a nod. Reese stops there, looking down at her feet and takes a moment to herself.

 

“Doll?” Nick prompts, and that seems to call her attention again. “Um,” She begins to fiddle with her hands, “Well, Amari and I talked after I came to. Talked about the Institute. You remember hearing about that scientist? Virgil?” The detective nods, leaning against the metal of the station. “Amari. She, told me how to find him.” 

 

Nick pushes himself off the frame, “What?” His question seems to make her uncomfortable, pained features coming across her face. “I didn’t tell anyone about it, because. I’m afraid. He’s in something called ‘The glowing sea’?” And those brown eyes look up at Nick, and he sees something he hasn’t seen in four weeks. Fear.  “What is that?” she whispers, taking off her Pip-boy. The detective sighs, bringing a hand up to take his hat off to the rub his head. “It’s. South of the Commonwealth. It’s where the bombs dropped back in ‘77. It’s not a place you want to live.” Confusion flies over his features, and she only shrugs. “That’s what Amari said. She said that’s where he lives. I - I don’t want to go.” 

 

“Thresea. This could be our way to the Institute. This could bring you to your son.” And he knows, that’s what she really wants. She wants to have her child back. “And what if he’s dead?” Her voice suddenly booms over the radio, making Nick jump a bit. That fear in her eyes is replaced with hatred and anger. His golden eyes scan her face for anything else, but comes up empty, and he can’t find anything to say. “What if we go, we find a way to get in, and they’ve killed my fucking son? What do we do then? Hmm?” 

 

“Reese, I -,” 

 

“No, Nick! This is exactly why I didn’t tell anyone. Shaun is the one thing that is left of the old world for me, and there’s a chance, he may not even be alive. I’ll have nothing to live for after that.” She shouts, moving away from the door to the other side of the room. The ink spots begin to play. Nick can barely hear her cry. Her statement stung like the needle of a stimpak, but he tries to not let it get to him. He needs to understand that Shaun is the most important thing to her. He can’t compete against a son. The synth lets her have her moment, tears hitting the workshop top, dusting beginning to pick up. “Doll,” He whispers, walking up to her side and putting a skeleton hand on her shoulder, “It’s better than living with the fact that they could be torturing him in there. A boy _needs_ his mother.” 

 

That seems to resonate with her, and her tears begin to slow down, her breath shaky.  “So,” She starts, turning around to face Nick, “What do we do now?” 

 

“First, we get you a hazmat suit.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally moving the plot along!! I struggled with the amount of story I could actually put into this one, but I think a lot about how Theresa would act if things like this were revealed to her. She's a super complex character and even though she's from the army and super tough, she's also hella scared and I wanted to show some of that in this chapter. Also I did at least 90% of the side quests before I even touched the Glowing Sea mission lol. I hope yall liked it, and I thank yall for sticking around as much as yall have!   
> P.s. Any of yall SOA fans?


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